Only if you go out with me, Evans
by NeverAPrefect
Summary: I was a horrid, horrid person. A miserable excuse for a friend. It should have been the easiest thing. Tell the boy you hate that your best mate fancies him. But I couldn't. Why? Because I fancied James Potter. Er...SINCE WHEN, LILY!
1. Prologue

_**Disclaimer: **Sadly, I am not JKR. I wish I was, because then these character could all be a wonderful product of my imagination. But sadly, I am simply me. _

_**A/N: **Hello there! Welcome to my story. Lots of luuurve to you reading this. This is my first fanfic, so bear with me while I figure stuff out, okay? I know that it will probably bother the pants off of you, and you'll be wondering "Gosh, this prat has no idea what she's doing!" I will not begin to tell you how true that statement is. Anyway. I have decided to post both the Prologue and first chapter, because the Prologue by itself is rather dull. And possibly not big in the sense-making department. Have a happy day!_

* * *

**Prologue**

I suppose I knew something big would happen that year, the castle itself knew something was happening- another ending. And another beginning as well, for more than one reason, and for more than one person.

I never considered myself a hypocrite. That was one insult that never came my way. Know-it-all, yes. Killjoy, yes. But never a hypocrite. Yet at that time, I may have needed to rethink that. I was guilty of hypocrisy to the highest degree.

I know what it was, at least I think. It was a friend. A friend who wanted a favour. A favour that, as it turned out, I couldn't grant. I tried. I really did. But could I really go against myself? Against what I believed; what I loved? No. Try as I might, I couldn't. I wanted to help. I really did. But that's where the hypocrite showed up. That hypocrite complicated everything. It's a good thing forgiveness is so easily granted, because at the end, I needed that most.


	2. Chapter 1

_**Disclaimer: **Still not JKR :_

* * *

**Chapter One: Platform**

It was raining. Of course it was. It was September in London. Not that it isn't usually sunny, but rain shouldn't have been a surprise. On the way to King's Cross, I watched the raindrops pitter-patter onto my window in the backseat of the car. I idly twirled my wand as I watched the rain, only vaguely aware of the smooth wood in my hands.

"Stop that!" my sister hissed.

I glared at her. She glared right back, her light blue-green eyes shooting positively murderous looks at me. I rolled my eyes and looked back out the window. Petunia could deal with my wand. It wasn't _my_ fault she had come to hate all things magical. Okay, so maybe it was, but still. If I could perk up her day by providing a glaring target, then my life was complete.

We got to King's Cross not long after that. My father helped me get all my things onto the trolley, and my mother simply became a blubbery mess, as usual. They all kissed me goodbye, Petunia giving me a smirk.

"Have fun at freak school," she sneered.

"Have fun with the Baconator," I shot back. I called Petunia's _wonderful_ boyfriend the Baconator. It suited Vernon quite well.

Mum glared at me through her tears, "Have a wonderful year, Lily," she blubbered. She was always a mess when sending me off to school. Something about 'her baby growing up so fast'. It would be sweet if she hadn't been doing it since I was eleven.

"See you next summer, darling," Dad said as he kissed my forehead.

With a cheery wave, I went through the barrier that divided platforms nine and ten.

"Lily Evans!" called a very familiar voice.

I turned around and saw where the voice was coming from. Coming towards me, school robes already on, was one of my best friends- Emily Cummings. Emily was gracefully running towards me, her light gold ponytail swinging as she did. Emily was one of those people who, if they weren't quite so perfect, you would hate. She was tallish and built like a ballerina, with all the grace of someone who had studied dance their whole life (even though she hadn't). Emily had golden blonde hair that fell in gentle curls just past her shoulders and was usually pulled out of velvety soft brown eyes. She was unfairly beautiful. The type of person who turned heads simply by _breathing _it seemed. Best of all, and what I loved best about her, was that she knew she was pretty, but was never entirely sure what she thought of it. Completely unaware of how to take in her own looks. Usually she settled for a sort of bashful modesty. It was impossible to hate Emily. Utterly impossible.

"Emily Cummings!" I said as she gave me a tight hug, "You certainly are brown,"

Emily shrugged her graceful shoulders, "We went to Greece for a month for the Ministry."

Emily's father worked for the Department of International Magical Cooperation, and so the Cummings's were always going off to fab places.

I looked over Emily's shoulder, "Where's Bridget?"

"Late, as usual," Em said, rolling her eyes.

I stood on my tiptoes in a vain attempt to see around me. Since when were third years so _tall?_ And bloody obnoxious to boot! I looked around the crowded platform, trying to find our friend. There were the whelpy third years, a very astounded (and most likely Muggle-born) first year and his equally astounded mother, and a gangly sixth year Ravenclaw attempting to struggle free of his mother's embrace.

"MOTHER OF MERLIN!" exclaimed a voice in a lilting Irish brogue. Within a second, a short girl with a face full of freckles, blue eyes, and a wild mane of black curls that practically ate her face stepped into view.

Bridget.

My other best friend was pushing a trolley with one hand, catching an owl cage in the other, and was balancing a rucksack on her knee as it fell. Emily and I burst into fits of laughter. Bridget glared jokingly.

"Titchy little third years," she threw a dirty look at the third years in question, "Sorry I'm so late! Danny threw a tantrum because he's too little to come, then Katie realized she didn't have her Potions book, and Patrick decided to sleep in until fifteen minutes before we had to leave!" Bridget explained as she reorganized her things.

None of this surprised me. Bridget comes from this absolutely huge Irish wizarding family. She had five siblings; three too young to go to Hogwarts, a sister in Hufflepuff and brother in Ravenclaw. I had gone to their house once, during fourth year, and frankly, I was amazed that they all got to Platform Nine and Three-Quarters every year.

Emily hadn't quite composed herself again, so I helped Bridget with her things and we boarded the train just as the all aboard was called.

Unfortunately for us, there were almost no compartments left. There was one at the back, with just three little first years in it; and another one with four hulking Slytherins in it. Finally we slumped against the wall.

"It's hopeless," Emily muttered, as she rubbed her temple with long fingers. I sighed my agreement.

"Hey! What about this one…" Bridget started, then trailed off, looking skeptical as she peered inside the compartment. It was one of the largest ones on the train, so I couldn't see what was wrong with it.

Emily went to stand behind Bridget. Her eyes widened and then she looked at me, a little apprehensively.

"Well, it _is _the only compartment big enough," she said slowly, "But we can always keep looking."

"Oh, bollocks. Because there will be another one with enough room," I said as I pushed away from the wall and pushed my red hair out of my face. Silly girls. No matter who was in that compartment, we would sit there.

Bridget shrugged and walked into the compartment. Emily shot me a look of sympathy, which immediately made me thirty times more nervous.

I walked in behind my friends, almost tripping over Emily's robes. Once inside, I saw what caused my friends' hesitation at once. And understood why they suggested we keep on looking for another compartment. A compartment that all three of us knew was not going to be found.

My green eyes widened in horror, "No. No, no, no, no, no. This _cannot_ be the only compartment left."

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_So thank you for reading! (I am assuming that since you are reading this you got this far and actually read the story. But then again, maybe I shouldn't assume. My blodge teacher says all it does is makes an ass out of u and me. tehehehe) If you liked it, or if you think it was pooey, please tell me! I really appreciate constructive criticism. _

_Merci beaucoup!_

_NeverAPrefect_


	3. Chapter 2

_**Disclaimer: **Still still not JKR. Though not for lack of trying_

_Hello, my online reader-type chums! It it I, your slightly mental British writer-person. (I just finished reading "It's Okay, I'm Wearing Really Big Knickers" by Louise Rennison. Though my American cousin says you call it something else there in Hamburger-A-GoGo land. Ridiculous, as it was written by a British lady, and should be published in British. Odd, isn't it? How American English and our English are so very different? Quite annoying, really. Anyway. Enough ranting.) So. I sit here in my very dull bedchamber, on my bed, with my computer. And yes. Special bits and pieces of luuuuurve go out to Kai-Qui, Officemaxgluestick (what the bloody hell is that, anyway? I spent the better part of an hour trying to figure that out), LoveToDream and bellasutton. I am sending you all huggles in a box. B too. Even though you are very dim. _

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**Chapter Two: Badge**

Remus Lupin was sitting nearest to the window on the left, his nose already stuck in a book. The only person in all of Hogwarts who read more than me was Remus. He looked up at us and his always-tired looking eyes lit with surprise. He smiled at us and pushed his sandy hair out of his face. It looked like he hadn't had a haircut in a while.

"Oh, hi," he said, then gave us a puzzled look. Who could blame him? My friends and I usually avoided the "Marauders" at all costs.

He exchanged glances with the boy across from him; a short, pudgy boy with watery grey eyes, mousy hair and a perpetually drippy nose. Peter Pettigrew shrugged at him and then gave us girls a nervous smile. How on earth his friends put up with him was beyond me. Peter Pettigrew was so completely opposite of his friends. Who, speaking of, were bound to be around somewhere…

Just then a loud crack filled the air.

"JAMES POTTER YOU FILTHY GIT!" I shrieked at the top of my lungs.

"Nice to see you again, too, Evans," Potter said with a cheeky grin. He and his best mate, Sirius Black, had just shown off their new Apparation skills by Apparating not even twenty centimeters from me. They always needed something to boast about.

I glared at Potter, and thought that with his mouth closed, Potter was actually quite handsome looking. He was tallish, and muscled from spending every spare hour of his day playing Quidditch. He had black hair that was always messed up- no thanks to him of course, he messed it up on purpose- and hazel eyes that looked out from behind his glasses with a decidedly impish look. He was tan from the summer still, and was wearing Muggle clothing that actually worked for him. I just couldn't see the attraction. I mean, yes, he was quite dishy, but his personality left a lot to be desired.

Potter winked at me and sunk into a seat across from Bridget. My friends had apparently sat down while I was yelling at Potter. Black lazily plopped down on the other side of Potter. I was going to sit down in between to Emily and Bridget when a strong (boy) hand grabbed my wrist and pulled me down on the seat between him and Black. A seat, which I might add, was not very large.

"So how was your holiday, Evans? Levitate any shrubbery again?" Potter asked with a grin. Cheeky git.

I fumed. Once, during first year, I accidentally levitated one of the shrubs we were working with in Herbology. Not one of my finer moments, as that particular plant didn't take to the air quite as well as I hoped for. It had exploded, showering my classmates and me in goopy purple ooze.

"Potter, that happened _once _in first year. Let it go already," I said through clenched teeth.

The seat I had been pulled into was so small that all of me was pressed up against Potter. Which, for the record, I did _not _enjoy _at all_, no matter what my hormones thought. They seemed to like a little much, as I got a tingly feeling all up and down my Potter side. I didn't like it_. _Potter, on the other hand, seemed to relish it a little too much.

I turned to face Black, "Do you think you could possible scoot over a touch?"

"Nope. Sorry, Lily. No can do. If I scoot over anymore, Peter will be pancaked against the window," he turned and slapped Peter on the back, "Right, eh, Wormtail?"

I rolled my eyes as Black smirked at me. Now, with Black, I could see why girls fancied him. Sirius Black had inky grey eyes that were rimmed with thick lashes. On any other boy, this might have made him look _very_ feminine. But not on Black, for some reason. He was of the same build Potter was, and a hair taller. He was almost devastatingly handsome, and when he wanted to look innocent (snort as if that ever happened) he had this way of looking at you from underneath his dark brown hair (of which a tuft of it was almost always in his eyes) and would bite his lip in a manner that made you just melt. When I was in third year, Sirius had been my first crush. Not that it lasted long. There was something very odd and downright nasty about fancying the boy you hate's best friend.

Potter and Black exchanged a glance that did not make me feel comfortable _at all_. I knew something was up, and because Potter and Black were involved, I guessed that whatever it was they were thinking was bound to involve a mess that I would have to clean up. I resolutely turned to face Emily and Bridget, who were watching me warily.

"So," I said, staring at Emily, "How was Greece?"

"Oh, did Emily go to the land of the gods?" Potter asked.

Emily blushed, "Athens was wonderful. And I really enjoyed Santorini. The Caldera was beautiful. It was once the site of an ancient magical university, you know."

I smiled at Em. She actually though History of Magic was interesting, and not in the way I did, which was simply to get good marks. She was always trying to get Bridget and me more into History of Magic, and didn't understand why we thought it was so boring. (Have you _been _to Professor Binns class? He's _ghost_. That says it all.)

Bridget could tell that Emily's upcoming raving about Greek wizards would bore not only Potter and Black, but everyone else in the compartment.

"I had a lovely holiday myself," Bridget said. For some reason she got misty eyed.

I raised an eyebrow at her, "Really? What made it 'lovely'? You didn't even leave Donegal."

"Yes I did," she shot back, her blue eyes flashing, "I went to Galway to visit my da's family. And…" she trailed off.

Now she even had Remus' attention. He had set the book in his lap, brushed his sandy hair out of his face and was watching Bridget apprehensively . Black and Potter looked like they were trying to not keel over with laughter, and Peter was rapt with attention.

"I met a boy," she said, as if that explained everything.

"That's it?" I asked, frowning.

"Now, Evans, of course not. He was probably a _wonderful _boy with _dreamy_ good looks and made her positively _swoon_ when he kissed her," Potter said, batting his eyes.

Black cracked up, "That sounds like me, don't you think, mate?"

Modest he was not.

"Oh?" Emily said. She exchanged a glance with Black and then had to bite her perfect lower lip to keep from laughing.

"James is right. He was _stunning,"_ Bridget sighed.

I couldn't help it- I let out a giggle, "So, what's his name? This dreamboat of yours?" I asked. Hopefully that hid the giggle.

"Sean Finnigan," Bridget sighed.

Emily's perfectly perfect brow furrowed, "Sean Finnigan? I've never heard of him, and I thought I know all the seventh year boys. What house is he in?"

Of course she knew all the seventh year boys. They had all asked her out at one point in time or another. With the exception of two Slytherins.

Bridget blushed, "Oh, well, he's not in a house. He doesn't go to Hogwarts."

"He doesn't? Where does he go then? Beauxbatons is the next closest, and that's in France somewhere," Remus said, conjuring up information that only maybe two people knew. Myself being the other. (What? It's true. Not everyone knows that Beauxbatons is the only other magic school this side of the Alps.)

"Well," Bridget started, her blush deepening, "He's a Muggle."

"A MUGGLE?!" we all exclaimed in unison.

"Yes. A wonderful Muggle. With strong arms that-"

"Stopping!" Black cut in, looking appalled. His friends cracked up.

"My summer holiday was quite good, too," I said slyly. I knew something they didn't…

"Why?" Potter asked right away, looking agitated. With the direction Bridget's summer had gone, I think he was thinking mine was along those lines as well. Sorry to disappoint, Potter, but no.

"For one, Petunia was a nanny for some posh family on the Isle of Wight and was away most summer. Though that did have its downsides. _Nobody _needed to see her reunion with her boyfriend," I shuddered, remembering. Emily and Bridget laughed. They had seen pictures of Vernon, "But everything looked up when I got my letter."

I tried to reach into my trouser pocket, which is quite hard when squashed between two seventeen year old boys. Finally my fingers closed around a small metal object. I pulled it out of my pocket, brandishing it proudly.

Nobody looked surprised.

My spirits fell just a tad. I had been excited, "You don't look surprised."

Emily sighed, "That's because we aren't, Lily. _Everyone _with a brain knew you were going to be Head Girl. Anyone with _half_ a brain knew you were going to be Head Girl. You're the cleverest witch in our year. And possibly the whole of Hogwarts now."

"Just like everyone knew Remus was going to me Head Boy," Bridget said.

True. In Remus' case at least. I looked over at him. Much to my shock, he wasn't looking at anybody. Rather, he was hiding behind his book, blushing to the roots of his hair. Now I was confused. And I really don't like being confused. I looked at Peter, who was fidgeting nervously and gnawing his fingernails, staunchly avoiding my gaze. My insides sunk like they were lead. Not good. Usually I could get Peter to tell me things. Anybody could. He was very easily intimidated. I hazarded a glance at Black. He was smirking, looking at Potter like a nitwit. His grey eyes were almost spilling mischief. I summoned all my willpower and turned to look at Potter. He was looking much too smug for my own good. And looking annoyingly superior. But at the same time, he had a look of relief and excitement in his hazel eyes.

"So you're Head Girl, Evans?" Potter asked, too nonchalantly to actually be nonchalant.

"Yes, why?" I asked back, suspicious already.

Potter smirked, "No reason. Just wanted to know who I was dealing with this year."

Black shot him a look. One that said "Oy, mate! Shut your gob!"

"Why, Potter? Keen on getting detention?" I shot back

"Only if you have detention with me, Evans," he smiled at me.

I glared at him. That was only a small step better than what he had been doing since fourth year- which was ask me out literally every five seconds. He counted.

"I think that we should get our robes on," Potter said calmly, standing up and walking out of the compartment. Remus, Peter and Black got up and followed him, Black giving us a secretive smirk and wink on his way out.

Emily got u p and closed the compartment door, "What was that all about?"

"I'm not sure," I said, and not liking it that I wasn't sure.

"I have a feeling that at least Lily won't like what's going on," Bridget said.

True. So true. If Potter and his friends all knew something that I didn't and were smug about it, it was guaranteed that it would not me very happy when I found out whatever it was.

Emily, Bridget and I changed into our robes, not bothering to leave the compartment since all the boys had. We didn't take long, so the possibility of them walking in on us was very slim. After we were through, Emily braided Bridget's curls into an attempted tight French braid (the tight part was debatable) and I pinned my new Head Girl badge to my chest, where it proudly sat opposite the Gryffindor lion crest. We sat back down, this time me in between Emily and Bridget. A few moments after we did, the boys came back in, all changed.

My eyes zeroed in on a shiny sliver of _something_ glinting next to the Quidditch Captain badge on Potter's chest. When he sat down across from me, and the fabric of his robes moved revealing that shiny something, I could see it better. And see exactly what it was.

I blanched. Sitting on Potter's chest, still partly concealed by a fold in his robes, was a silver badge. A silver badge almost identical to the one on my chest. The Head Boy badge. I felt nauseous.

"See anything you like, Evans?" Potter asked arrogantly, noticing that I was staring at his chest.

I simply pointed. My friends' gaze followed my finger. Emily gasped and Bridget's eyes widened.

"You?" I asked.

Potter looked down at the Head Boy badge on his chest, looked back at me and grinned, "Me."

"Fun year ahead of you, eh, Evans?" Black teased.

Oh yes, Mr. Black, oh yes.

_

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_

Yayzers! The end of Chaptre Deux! I am quite proud of myself for finishing it. Well, I am off to enjoy my summer holiday for a bit, play some footie with my brothers, maybe go to my friends house; but never fear! I will most definately be posting chapter three soon. ttfn!

_--NeverAPrefect_

_ps-oh, and please review. I actually enjoy those._

_pps- if you'd like a recommendation, I highly reccommend "Penmanship Smitten" by HeyLookTheSnitch. I read it this arvie. Very good. Very good indeed. _


	4. Chapter 3

_**Disclaimer: **Sadly, my wish upon a star has not been granted, and I am still plain old NeverAPrefect, not JKR._

_Hello hello hello, reader-type chaps! I hope that you are having a lovely summer holiday. Mine is...well, interesting. To say the least. But then again, things usually are when two of your brothers decide to blow up your mum's garden gnome. (Mum wasn't too pleased- but it was bloody hilarious) Anyway, to the nub and gist of my rambling- here I sit, at 4 in the morning, sneaking onto my computer to get this up (another long story, involving a brother or two, and online order form, and Mum getting her knickers in a twist. Of course they had to use my computer. Boys. Completely hopeless) and so I hope you enjoy it! Special huggles to Sweet or Sour, polkadot6287, SuddenlyImLost, tashville007 (very Bond of you, by the way), pinkamyharley, and as always, to my wonderous but dim cousin, bellasutton (I do hope your American arse likes this)_

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**Chapter Three: Transfiguration**

I stormed into the Gryffindor seventh year girls' dormitories after the feast that night. Potter was so bloody infuriating! Somehow, despite my efforts to the contrary, he had wound up sitting across from me at the feast.

"Evans! What a pleasant surprise!" he had said, as if it was some shock that I was sitting there. Shock, my arse.

I had glared up at him, "Potter."

He had jabbered the whole meal, mostly at me, but sometimes he would talk quietly to his friends, and that made me nervous. Potter muttering to Black, Remus, and Peter. Never a good sign. In the past, these lovely conversations usually climaxed with something being blown up.

I stalked over to my bed, and threw open my trunk. I started rummaging through it, looking for my pajamas. Though, looking back, it would have been better if I had simple remembered the stack that I had placed them in when I packed. Instead, I tore apart my trunk, which I later regretted. I was usually obsessively neat, and ruining the neatly organized piles of my trunk was akin to breaking the Statute for Underage Wizardry. I didn't even notice, though, peeved as I was about Potter.

Emily noticed, "Erm, Lily, you alright?"

"Absolutely spiffing," I grumbled, jerking a t-shirt over my head.

Bridget looked at me, from the messy trunk at my feet to the twin red spots of anger on my cheeks, "Oh, come off it, Lily! James isn't _that_ bad."

I glared at her, "Oh, really? And you would know this how? Does he follow _you_ around like a puppy? Does he purposely sit across from _you_ at dinner, just because he knows it annoys you?"

Bridget rolled her eyes, "Oh, honestly, Lil. You do know the only reason he does any of that is because he completely adores you? He fancies you, Lily. And you know what? I think that once you get you head out of your arse, you'll realize that you just might fancy him, too."

I couldn't even bring myself to glare at her, I was so shocked. Bridget turned around and climbed into her bed. Within seconds, she was fast asleep.

I looked at Emily. She grinned sheepishly, "I…I think Bridget may be right."

"What?!"

"Lily, even you have to admit that Potter's matured. And not just physically," she giggled, "He's not as much of a pompous twit anymore, and he acts much more normal, when he's off the Quidditch pitch at least," Emily said gently.

I was completely gob-smacked. My two best friends, telling me that _Potter_, the boy I had spent almost my entire Hogwarts career absolutely _loathing_, might actually be an alright bloke. It was completely unreal. And not in a good way.

"Yeah? Well, maybe _you_ should go out with Potter then."

After that, Emily and I got into our beds. I was still fuming, but now I had these nasty little questions that kept popping up into my head. Like what if my mates were right? Who was I _kidding?_ Of course they were wrong. They just had to be.

I woke up the next morning to a pillow being lovingly tossed at me.

More like launched at me like a bloody bludger.

"Lily!" Emily almost shrieked, panicking, "Get up! We're going to be late for breakfast!"

I groaned and rolled out of bed. Count on me to be late the first day of classes. Bridget was swiping something on her eyelids and Emily was fastening her watch. I yanked my robes on, slapped my hair up into a _very _messy ponytail, meanwhile promising myself that I would take a shower tonight. I probably looked like hell, I hadn't slept well due to the annoying little buggers of questions that my _dear, dear_ friends had posed me with, and now I was going to be late. And spend my entire day exhausted.

My friends and I dashed out of our dormitory, through the Common Room, and down to the Great Hall.

Bridget and I gazed around. Neither of us had as much time as we would have liked to get ready, and here we were, neither of us looking even remotely presentable. And not even two-thirds of the school was there yet. Both of us threw a glare at Emily, who looked us all innocently, as if she did nothing wrong.

We walked over to the Gryffindor table and flopped down near a few sixth years. I recognized two right away- Alice Gordon and Frank Longbottom- they were the sixth year Gryffindor prefects. Just as I was about to smile at Alice and ask her how her holiday was, I saw something out of the corner of my eye that made my smile fade faster than a Vanishing Charm.

Potter and his cronies were waltzing into the Great Hall, Potter and Black leading the way. They were shoving each other and laughing. Remus was walking just behind them, smiling as he read his book. And Peter was anxiously keeping up, a look of almost veneration on his pimply round face.

My eyes met Potter's when they were about halfway into the Great Hall. He got a funny look, almost confused, but oddly apprehensive, on his face. He reached up to ruffle his hair, as usual, but stopped halfway and hesitantly lowered his hand again. I shot him a bemused look. Not usual Potter-like behavior.

Apparently I had no need to worry about the sudden change in Potter's behavior. He came up and sat down next to- no, scratch that, practically on top of is more accurate- me. And Black squished in between Emily and I. Remus and Peter joined Bridget on the bench across from us.

"Good morrow, Miss Evans. Don't you look like the picture of health," Black commented with a wink.

"That's unfortunate. I was going for the Muggle supermodel look. Too bad that didn't work out," I replied dryly.

Peter gave a quick laugh and Black shot him a "shut up now" look.

"So, Evans. Sleep well?" Potter asked.

"Reasonably well. A little better if Bridget didn't snore," I smiled sweetly at my friend, who was glaring.

Before Potter could say anything else, Professor McGonagall made her way to us with our schedules.

"Miss Cummings, I assume that you will be keeping up with the same subjects from last year? You still wish to be a Healer?" the Gryffindor head of house asked, her stern eyebrows raised expectantly, and approvingly, at Emily.

"Of course, Professor," Emily smiled up at Professor McGonagall.

"Mr. Black, I assume you are still going to be taking whatever it is that Mr. Potter is taking?" this time Professor McGonagall wasn't looking very approving. In fact, if I were Black, I probably would have run away by now. But of course, since _he _was Black, he was just looking unconcerned.

"Yeah, that sounds about right."

"Miss Evans?" Professor McGonagall looked at me, her wand hovering over the next piece of parchment.

"The same, Professor," I replied.

"Mr. Potter? The same as Mr. Black?" Professor McGonagall's lips were pressed together in a line so thin that it looked like she didn't even have lips.

Potter gave the same unconcerned answer as Black. Then Professor McGonagall gave Remus, Peter, and Bridget their schedules and walked away.

I glanced at my schedule briefly before turning to ask Emily when she had Herbology, but before I could do so, an arm reached around me and grabbed my schedule.

"So, what classes do we have together, Evans?" Potter asked, smiling as he held my schedule just out of my reach.

"Potter, give it back," I said as I tried to reach across him and grab it.

"Say the magic word," he said, his eyes teasing.

I rolled my eyes, "Please."

"If you can reach it."

I couldn't, so I reached up and grabbed Potter's wrist and pulled it down to me to get my schedule back. Oddly enough, he didn't resist my pulling. I turned to look at him and then caught my breath. Potter's hazel eyes were only inches from my own, gazing into my eyes as if he could see the depths of my soul. I was suddenly hyper aware of exactly how close we were- how I was leaning into his chest, how his arm was gently wrapped around my waist, and how my fingers were still wrapped around his wrist. I quickly let go, flustered. I could feel myself going as red as my hair.

"You shouldn't take other people's things, Potter," I mumbled, ducking my head.

I heard a soft chuckled on my other side. Black was looking at me amusedly, eyebrows raised, "Neither should you, Lily."

I stared at him. What in the name of Merlin's pantyhose was he talking about?

Potter cleared his throat. I looked at him. He was a little pink, too, but had a smirk plastered across his face.

"Looks like we have almost every class together, Evans," Potter said, showing me his own schedule.

Fan-bloody-tastic. As if my term couldn't possibly be any better than it already was.

Emily and Bridget went with me back up to Gryffindor tower to get our Transfiguration books- we all had Transfiguration first. And so did my absolute _favourite_ person ever. Eurgh. Somehow, I had drawn the short straw at every turn this term. Not only did I have to spend almost my entire day of classes with Potter today, oh no. It got even better. As Head Boy and Girl, we were required to patrol the hallways after hours, looking for students out of bed. You want to hear my favourite part? We had to do it together. Yep. Whoever said "the more the merrier" was bloody delusional.

"What a terrible day," grumbled Bridget as we walked out of the portrait hole.

"I know. Transfiguration, Charms, and Double Potions with the Slytherins all in one day," Emily agreed.

"Whoever thought that it was smart to stick Gryffindors and Slytherins together? I mean, honestly, it's not like they haven't been enemies since the start of Hogwarts," I commented sarcastically. I mean, really. Why did the Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws get to do everything together? Its not like they have a millennium of disagreeable history behind them. _Everyone_ in the magical world knows that Gryffindors and Slytherins hate each other. And they _still_ stick us together for blooming everything.

"Oh, I don't know. The Slytherins aren't all bad," Emily replied, ever the optimist.

Bridget and I stopped walking and stared at her.

"What?" she asked innocently.

I shook my head and Bridget sarcastically commented, "Oh, no, Em. And Sirius Black looks like a hag's backside."

"Why thanks, Bridget. I think you're pretty cute, too," said a decidedly male voice from behind us. And I had a pretty good guess on exactly _whose_ male voice it was. And who accompanied him.

"Thanks, Sirius. Does that line work with all your girlfriends?" Bridget shot back, her blue eyes blazing.

Black opened his mouth to say something, but Emily cut in, "That's not possible, Bridget. Black doesn't have girlfriends- he has dates that he changes just about as often as he changes knickers."

Potter laughed, "Ouch, mate. It bites."

Black grinned, but there was something off about his grin, "Not to worry, Prongsy old chap. I can't hate someone for telling the truth. That would be mean of me."

Boys. Disgusting.

We all walked to class. Including Potter and the Idiots. Okay, I take that back- Remus is pretty nice. Most of the time. Potter and Black were singing very loudly- and rather obnoxiously, too- some song about a banshee and firewhiskey. And something to do with broomsticks. They were alternating each line, making it up as the went. If it weren't such a wanky thing to do, it would have been more entertaining.

We walked into Transfiguration, where Em, Bridget, and I took the last three spots together. Which forced The Marauders apart. Potter and Black looked dramatically heartbroken and started going into dramatic hysterics at the thought of parting from each other.

"My darling Sirius-kins! I shall be longing for you every moment we're apart. But never fear! Our love is undeniable, and distance cannot break that!" Potter cried, going down on one knee and playing the part of the dewy-eyed minstrel very well.

"Oh, Jamesy! I simply can't leave you! My heart will pine for you every minute I'm gone!" Black wailed as he threw the back of his had to his forehead.

I rolled my eyes and laughed (yes, I admit it- I laughed) "He'll pine and I'm a holly bush," I muttered.

Just then, Professor McGonagall walked into the classroom. Right as Black was declaring his undying love for Potter. McGonagall raised an eyebrow at them.

"Mr. Potter, Mr. Black. Stop this carrying on at once. If you are so concerned about being separated, may I recommend that you take to two seats in the row behind Miss Cummings?" McGonagall pursed her lips as Potter and Black burst into raptures of joy and sat down in the row…

Right behind me.

What god had I offended?

"Now then. I hope all of our emotional issues are taken care of?" McGonagall surveyed the class with her sharp eye as Sondra Jennings and Daphne Sharpton giggled and fluttered their eyes at Black and Potter, who I could hear blow kisses back.

As if that helped.

"Good," McGonagall snapped, "Miss Jennings, if you and Miss Sharpton would like to join me for detention next Friday, continue with that behavior. As I was about to say- this term starts off with a project. As this is your N.E.W.T year, you will be expected to put great effort into this project- it will be your first assignment in this class, and heavily affect your end-of-term marks. We will be continuing our regular coursework as well, never fret."

Lovely.

"Now, I am handing out slips of parchment, on which will appear the name of your partner for this project…"

Not good. I _hated_ partner projects.

"Once everybody has a slip, the name will appear," McGonagall handed everyone a slip of parchment.

When the entire class had been given a slip, McGonagall waved her wand and words flowed onto the parchment in emerald ink.

Oh, no.

You have _got_ to be bloody joking.

* * *

_Well, there you are, darlings. I do hope you liked it, and weren't retching while reading (though why you wouldn't just stop reading if that were the case is beyond my brains) Chapter Four will be up as soon as I get it out of my head and onto papier. Or rather computer screen. Review, please! Lots of luuuuuuurrrrve-_

_-NeverAPrefect_


	5. Chapter 4

_Disclaimer: Sadly, I am not a brilliant author who lives in the (wonderful, by the way) city of Edinbourgh (have mates at Fettes- perhaps they've met?) named JKR. So, unfortunately, these wonderful characters are not mine. _

_Hello again! It's me! NeverAPrefect (the truth of that name has never been more true...) I'm back! Sorry this one took a while. Really, I am truly sorry. My bloody stupid gits-that-sometimes-double-as-older-brothers decided to drive Mum absolutely bonkers. So the computer was taken away. Meaning that I had to wait until I went to my brother Eric's house to work on this. (saved to his computer to. I accept your applause. Even I sometimes do something brilliant.) But then, sadly, there was this piece of troublesome business that I simple had to take part in, Mum got shirty, and I couldn't even go round to Eric's. So anyway- here is Chapter Four. I do hope you enjoy it. Little pieces of my excited/grateful/lovingness go out to stella luminosa, e.jameson, twinfeathers, crazy-tor, others I have forgotten, and the lovely but dim bellasutton. You will be receiving little prezzies by owl no later than tomorrow afternoon. Mwah! _

* * *

**Chapter Four: Before Lunch**

No.

No.

Not happening.

I would wake up any minute and this whole day would all be a terrible dream. I would wake up any minute now, safe and sound in Gryffindor Tower, not having a care in the world. I hadn't gone to breakfast yet, nothing had happened. I pinched myself.

"Ouch," I muttered. No dream then.

This _had _to be someone's very twisted, cruel idea of a joke. I just sat there, not believing my luck- or lack thereof. Had I done something awful in a past life that I was now paying for? Because this was simply not fair.

Emily threw me a sympathetic look as she went to join Remus. Lucky girl. Bridget gave me a half-hearted pat on the back and then went off to join Daphne Sharpton. Even Daphne would be better than this. And _that_ is saying something.

"Evans, you are simply having a _fab_ first day of classes, aren't you?"

"Just sit down, Black," I muttered, closing my eyes and rubbing my temples.

"Oh, why thank you, Lily. Don't mind if I do," Black said. He sat down where a minute ago- a wonderful, beautiful, lovely minute ago- Emily had been sitting.

Black tossed his hair out of his eyes, winked an inky grey eye, and lounged back, somehow managing to take up twice as much space as Emily had.

"Now," McGonagall began, "Your project will include a written essay and an oral presentation. You will choose from a myriad of topics on human transfiguration; whether that is Metamorphagi, Animagi, werewolves, or any other manner of things. If you'd like to do a cross-discipline report, you may explain the difference between these things and the Polyjuice Potion or a Disillusionment Charm. Nonetheless, I'd like you remember that this is _Transfiguration _class, so please make the emphasis on transfiguration. Oh, and you _will_ work together. If I find out otherwise, I have no qualms about failing you both," she threw a glare towards the Marauders, of whom only Remus had the decency to blush.

"Oh, bugger," Black breathed, so softly I could barely hear him. He looked at me then, a little apprehensively, "James is _not_ going to be very happy with me."

Class could not end fast enough. By the time the bell rang, I was ready to willingly stick quills in my eyes.

"So, Evans, I was thinking…" Black started.

"Really, Black? Stop the owls," I retorted.

He just grinned, "I know, I shock myself sometimes. I think my brain is going to file a complaint. It can't keep going like this. Anyway, as I was thinking- I think we should do our project on Animagi."

"Why, Black? Know any?" I asked as we walked to Charms.

"In a manner of speaking," he replied cryptically, "And I think that it's quite interesting."

I stopped and stared.

"What?" he asked, "Do I have a wart on my nose?"

"No…" I said slowly, "But when have _you _been interested in schoolwork? I mean, you spend more time in detention than class."

"Ah, detention," he said nostalgically, "I remember thee well."

I snorted, "Don't worry, Black. I'm sure you and Potter will have a month's worth by the end of the week."

He opened his mouth to say something, but then just smiled and shrugged, "Well, Evans-y old pal, not that this hasn't been fun, but I'd best be off before a certain Gryffindor Seeker and Head Boy decides to castrate me. Cheerio, darling!"

He ran to catch up to his friends. I shook my head as Bridget and Emily caught up to me.

"I'm going to bloody _murder_ Daphne Sharpton," Bridget said, casting dark glares at the Ravenclaw in question, "Honestly, the girl has biscuits for brains."

Emily looked stressed as she tucked a chunk of gold hair behind her ear, "I'm not too sure. I mean, I know that Remus is a good student and all, but I do hope that he decides to actually stop troublemaking and do the project. I mean, James and Sirius aren't exactly the most responsible of people, are they? And he _does _hang out with them a lot."

Tell me about it.

"And I really want to do well, you know? Get good marks and all. I want to be a Healer…maybe I'll draw up study schedules. With two people, that's probably a good idea. Yeah, I'll do that-"

"Emily?" Bridget asked, "Do us a favour- shut up."

Emily glared. She is absolutely notorious for being a little…uptight. She has to have everything a certain way, all the time. Maddening, really, when you're her dorm mate. She also has a way of making even me look relaxed and lazy. Which, as I'm sure any of the Marauders will tell you, is an impressive feat.

"Do you mind stopping by the loos? I really have to go," I asked as we passed by the girls' toilets.

Em and Bridget shrugged and stopped. I went in and relieved myself, then walked back out. Unfortunately, as I was on my way out, my heel caught the edge of my robes and I fell flat on my back.

"Graceful, Evans, though I wouldn't recommend doing that on a regular basis. Could end up in the hospital wing," said an annoyingly familiar voice lightly, coming up behind me.

I just stayed there, lying on the ground, "Go away, Potter."

"Love to," he shot back. What had his knickers in a twist? "But see, Charms starts soon, and even though I may not be as charming as Padfoot, I still don't think you should be late."

Ah. So that's what he's annoyed about. Why, though? It's not like I wouldn't be seeing enough of him. I opened my eyes to see Potter almost scowling at me, but offering a hand to help me up. Emily and Bridget were no where in sight. Good mates, I have.

I rolled my eyes at his expression, but took his hand. I couldn't help but notice how much larger it was than my own, or how strong it was. Or how callused and dry it was. Potter needed to rethink lotion. But no matter how I tried to focus on the calluses instead of the warmth, I couldn't help but feel my heart speed up. Bloody stupid hormones.

Potter pulled me to my feet and then quickly let go of my hand. I noticed he looked a bit pink around his ears.

"So, Evans. Enjoy having Sirius for a Transfiguration partner?" he asked as we started off to Charms.

I glanced at him. He did not look, as Black had predicted, very pleased, "Thrilled actually. You know I've always fancied Black," I said lightly.

Potter glared at me with those hazel eyes of his.

"Joke, Potter," I sighed.

"Bad sense of humour, Evans," he shot back.

I could feel myself start to colour in anger, "In case you hadn't noticed, Potter, McGonagall _assigned_ us partners. We couldn't pick. Because believe me, if we could, I would _not _have picked Black."

Potter turned to glare at me full on, "Oh, so now my friends aren't good enough?"

"What? This has nothing to do with that, you git! A minute ago you were mad that Black was my partner!" I spluttered

Potter was literally glaring daggers at me now, his hazel eyes flashing behind his glasses, "Yeah? Well, you implied that he wasn't good enough!"

I glared up at him. Stupid arse was a head taller than me at least, "Potter! What in the name of Merlin are you mad at me for? For having Black as a partner? For not wanting Black as a partner? For somehow inadvertently wanting Black as a partner? Which, I might add, is _impossible_, seeing as McGonagall ASSIGNED US PARTNERS."

Potter appeared to be having a nervy spaz, "Argh, Evans! You're so bloody impossible to deal with!"

Now I was _really_ angry, "_I'm _impossible, Potter? What about you? I have no idea what we're even yelling about anymore!"

"Miss Evans! Mister Potter! This is disgraceful behaviour for the Head Boy and Girl!" Professor McGonagall was coming towards us, her robes billowing behind her.

Potter and I stopped arguing and glared at each other.

McGonagall swooped down on us, clearly not pleased, "You should both know better! I am appalled at this. Ten points from Gryffindor. And do not tell me how unfair that is, Mister Potter. You're quite lucky it isn't more. Now, get yourselves to class. I _never_ want to see this behaviour from you two again, am I understood?"

"Yes, Professor," we both mumbled.

McGonagall walked off, leaving just Potter and I standing there. I shot one more furious glare at him before stalking off to Charms.

"Evans! Oy, Evans!" Potter called after me.

I whirled around, "What?"

He was jogging towards me, holding out a book, my Charms book, "Here's your book. And look, I'm sorry about all that. I just…lost my temper."

I glared, "Well, keep a better eye on it, would you? Can't have it running off like that."

I saw a ghost of a smile on Potter's lips before I turned and walked into Charms.

...

My day got no better by lunch. Potter, Black, Remus and Peter had sat behind Emily, Bridget and I in Charms, which meant that we constantly felt our hair being levitated all class. And Black sniggering all the while.

I finally took out my frustration on a group of three Slytherins who were hexing a little Hufflepuff on my way to lunch. Ten points from Slytherin each. I then shuffled into the Great Hall and flopped down at the Gryffindor table and buried my head in my arms, debating on whether or not it would be worth it to whack my head repeatedly with my Charms book.

Just then, I heard a thud across from me. I looked up, expecting to see a mass of black curls surrounding a little Irish girl with piercing blue eyes. But no.

"What do you want, Potter?" I asked wearily.

His eyes flashed, "Lunch," he grumbled.

"Bad morning?" What? Why was I asking? Did I care? No. It wasn't like I hadn't been there for most of his morning.

"The worst," he muttered as he grabbed a toasty.

"Yeah? Well, join the club," I said glumly as I grabbed an apple.

We were sitting there, having a wonderfully silent and brooding glower-fest when an all too chipper Black came bouncing up, throwing his rucky down next to Potter.

"My, my, my, aren't we a cheery lot," he said, sitting down with a thud and toss of his hair. Three fourth year girls giggled. He winked at them.

I rolled my eyes and snorted. Only Black. If Emily had seen that, she would have pursed her lips and clucked her tongue. She didn't really approve of the "swooning over Sirius" business that many of our fellow girls seemed to love.

"What?" Black asked innocently.

I rolled my eyes again, "Really, Black? Fourth years? That's low, even for you."

"Ah, Evans," he said, with the air of someone imparting great knowledge, "When will you learn? If your standards are low, then you can never be disappointed."

Potter snorted a laugh and I glared at Black. Boys: immature and rude. Proven fact.

Just as I was about to retort with a comment about degrading women, Remus stalked up to us and slammed his books down on the table next to Black. His usually pale cheeks had twin spots of red on them, and his tired brown eyes were looking very irritated indeed.

"Lily, Emily has_ got_ to relax," he shot at me as he sat down and snatched up a ham-and-cheese toasty.

Potter guffawed and Black absolutely lost it.

"This coming from Mr. Let's-Plan-Study-Times-So-We-Can-Get-Our–Coursework-Done. If Moony says that she needs to relax, then I'm guessing Emily needs to relax," Black said, once he had gotten control of himself.

Remus shot him a look, "She going to give herself an aneurysm. Honestly! She's already drawn up _colour-coded study plans_ for this Transfiguration project."

As he held up the offending parchment, Black cast a furtive look at Potter, who had gone rigid. Apparently not all was bliss and joy in _that_ relationship. Time for Couples Counselling.

Remus continued ranting and raving about Emily obsessive-compulsive behaviour, while Black muttered something to Potter. Potter cracked a grin and nodded. Both he and Black started talking in low voices. I only heard snatches of conversation.

"…nah, too obvious…"

"…dunno, it might…"

"…but what if…"

"…have patrol…"

"…yeah, that's the idea…"

Suddenly Remus realized that no one was paying attention to him. He leaned in to join the conversation, leaving me feeling awkward and out of it. Honestly, where were friends when you needed them? They really should be here with me, you know. Eating toasties and commiserating about a horrid morning. I glanced over at the boys across from me. Black's eyes were gleaming wickedly, Potter was smirking impishly, and Remus was looking apprehensive but vaguely excited.

Oh, joy.

Lovely.

Positively stupendifourous.

I'd bet five galleons that whatever was coming was 1) a prank of some sort 2) messy as Potions class after Peter messed up yet another potion (not his strong suit) 4)going to undoubtedly lead to me cleaning it up. Me, the prefects, and a certain mischief-making, immature, rude, conceited, pain-in-the-arse Head Boy. Who would have had a (not small) part in creating said mess.

The Marauders were known for making their pranks anti-Vanishing.

What a lovely time I had to look forward to.

* * *

_Right, so that's that! PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE REVIEW. I promise to be your friend if you do (smiles evilly...just kidding. sort of) But no, honestly, people. I would really love reviews. stella lumionosa submitted a particularily marv one. If you need lessons, ask her how to write a good one. _

_So, with that said, pip pip for now! I will see (read? write? come in contact with?) you all in the future (yes, I passed Divination. Barely)._

_Laters!_

_--NeverAPrefect_


	6. Chapter 5

_**Disclaimer**: I still have not been magically transformed into JKR. Much to my disappointment._

_Hello again, reader-type pal-ies! I am deeply apopologetic that this took a while. I had to revise this one several times before it decided to make itself presentable. Though the next chapter is already driving me mental. I have rewritten it five times now. I think I finally like the direction it's going. But I can't make any promises. Sadly, I have no crazy brothers to report their evil doings. They decided to prance off to footie camp, leaving me here with Mum, Dad, and popous Uncle Archie. Bloody unbearable. Well. I would say more, but malheuresment, I am more exhausted than two exhausted things after a hockey match. So just a whole bunch of luuurve going to my wondy reviewers- Anime Wildfire, SlYtHeRiN'zViXeN, xshrimpyx, e.jameson, AND- this one is VERY VERY IMPORTANT. a positively giganticus thank you to Bellatrix13 for her allowing me to use whatsits from her absolutely marv story, "The Various and Multiple Rejections of Lily Evans" (I do hope thats the right title.) So she gets an extra box of luurve. You should all get off your bloody behinds and go read her story (after you read mine of course)_

* * *

**Chapter Five: Patrol**

I stormed into Potions after lunch and threw my rucksack and books down beside Emily and Bridget, who had already arrived.

"Where were you two at lunch? You left me to eat with Potter! Alone!" I hissed as I pulled out my copy of _Advanced Potion Making_.

Emily looked at me like I was mad, "I told you after Charms. I was going to make colour-coded study schedules for Remus and me."

I rolled my eyes, "Em, about that. Think that's a little overkill? I mean, it's not like Remus is some cotton-headed ninnymuggins."

Emily flushed pink and turned to her cauldron in a huff. Apparently she had forgotten that Slughorn wasn't in the room yet, and that her cauldron was empty.

"I went to the Owlery to send a letter to Sean…oh, don't worry, I sent it to Mam to send to him. So he won't be getting an owl, just a Muggle letter," Bridget added hastily as she took one look at Emily's horror-stricken face.

I groaned. I had been abandoned for a study schedule and a letter. What larks.

The Marauders came bursting into the dungeon, talking amongst themselves. Potter looked up, spotted me (being a redhead is like having a spotlight on you) and, unfortunately, made a beeline for the nearest empty seat. Which was right next to me- along with two other empty seats. I completely gave up on any luck I might have had in that moment. They sat down, and Black glanced over at us. He gave us an astounded look- so astounded that it looked as if someone had just thrust a banger up his bum.

"Lily! Emily! Bridget! I had _no idea_ that you were in this class! Prongs, did you have any idea they would be joining us in this wonderful hall of education?" Black said with a wicked grin.

Potter punched him in the shoulder. Remus rolled his eyes.

"Ow," Black muttered as he rubbed his shoulder.

Remus snorted, "Told you so."

Professor Slughorn waddled into the classroom, giving us all a big smile.

"Welcome, welcome! I do hope you all had a lovely holiday. Today, we will be starting with something a little more fun, to welcome you back to Hogwarts. Amortentia! Why, just the other day, I had a lovely chat with a student of mine who has updated this recipe, Aethereda Kennsworth, you know. Now, who can tell me what Amortentia is?"

I raised my hand.

"Yes, Miss Evans?" Slughorn said, turning to face me.

"The most powerful love potion known," I answered simply.

"Yes! Quite wonderful, Miss Evans, but of course, that is why you are a member of the Slug Club," Slughorn said, chortling.

"Love potion, eh?" Potter muttered.

I turned to face him so fast that I got a crick in my neck, "Don't get any funny ideas, Potter. Otherwise I'll never drink _anything_ in your presence again."

"No need to get your wand in a knot, Evans. I wouldn't dream of trying anything funny," Potter replied with crooked half smile. My stomach lurched. I would have to assassinate it later. It wasn't _my _fault that Potter looked quite dishy when he did that. Not my fault at all. Stupid stomach shouldn't lurch like that.

After class, Slughorn made sure that we left every drop of Amortentia in his classroom. We watched as he Vanished our potions as soon as he graded them.

"Damn," Black muttered.

"Cheer up, Padfoot. Better luck next time," Potter said as he thumped Black's back,"Not that you need it," he muttered with a grin.

We walked out of the classroom quickly, everyone trying to get out at the same time- the dungeon was stuffy and hot from all the potions vapours, and rather uncomfortable. As I walked out of the room, I collided with a Slytherin. I turned to apologize (I had bumped him rather hard) when I found myself looking up at a greasy nose and black eyes.

I froze. Severus and I used to be friends, but through some rather unfortunate twists of fate (coupled with his new found "friends", such as Avery, Mullciber, Rodolphus Lestrange and his new wife Bellatrix, and Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy) we had a rather huge falling out.

He glared at me, "Sorry there," he drawled, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

My chest clenched. It still hurt sometimes that we weren't friends, "Don't worry about it, _Snivellus_," I retorted, using the Marauders' name for my old friend.

"Oi! Snivelly! Watch it!" Potter called, suddenly behind me, "Leave Evans alone."

Snape threw him a disgusted glare and stormed off.

I whirled on Potter, "Thanks so much, Potter, but I think I can handle these things on my own."

Potter looked surprised at my reaction, "Sorry then, Evans."

I almost froze again, and could feel my face look taken aback. That, like a few other things recently, was not usual Potter behaviour. Usually it was something more along the lines of "Oh, Evans, admit it. I'm your saviour". This time, he was apologising? Sincerely? Had the earth imploded? Because this was definitely a sign of the apocalypse. One that I certainly did not object to. I tilted my head to one side and threw Potter a puzzled look before I hurried to catch up to my friends, who were waiting fro me a few feet away when Potter called after me.

"Hey, Evans!"

I turned, "What, Potter?"

"Do we have patrol tonight?"

"What do you think, Head Boy?"

He smiled at me, "I think I'll take that as a yes. Eight o' clock?"

"Well, that's when McGonagall told us to start," I replied, looking at him like he was dim. Which he was.

He gave a wide smirk, "It's a date then."

"Potter, I would rather hit myself on the head with a large stick than go on a date with you," I said and stalked back to my friends.

As we walked away, I heard Black say, "Oh, yeah, mate. She _definitely_ fancies you."

...

After dinner, I met Potter in the Common Room. He was standing by the fireplace, looking a little nervous. I laughed as I came up to him.

"Relax, Potter. It's just a patrol," I said.

He turned and gave a rueful grin, "Yeah, right. Sorry."

The first part of the patrol was spent in extremely awkward silence. You'd think that we'd find something to talk about, but apparently not. It was revolting. We had known each other for years, and now we had nothing to talk about? What the bloody hell? We walked in complete and utter silence. Finally I decided to say something. I was desperate to break the silence. That silence was bloody deafening.

"So, erm, who's your partner for McGonagall's project, Potter?" I asked, looking up at him.

"Oh, er, Lotus Chen. The Ravenclaw. Going out with Yao Chang," he replied, fiddling with his wand.

It was like being on a first date.

I sighed angrily, "This is ridiculous!"

Potter exhaled loudly and grinned, "Yeah, it is. I hate boring conversation," he glanced at me, his eyes gleaming wickedly. All was back to normal, the little lapse of sanity gone in a blink, "So where should we go on this little Head excursion?"

"Well, Alice and Frank have the Charms corridor, Lotus and Chuck have the dungeons-" I started.

"Is that wise? Sending the Ravenclaws to the dungeons?' Potter cut in.

I glared up at him, "Don't interrupt. But better them than the Hufflepuffs. You know Slytherins wouldn't respect Hufflepuffs anymore than they would if we were down there. And Emma and Robbie are too nice to punish _anybody." _

I rattled off the places where I knew the prefects were, with Potter interrupting every now and then just because it annoyed me.

When I finished, Potter looked at me and grinned, his hazel eyes sparkling, "So I guess that leaves us the Astronomy Tower."

I regarded him warily, "I suppose so."

His grinned widened as he casually said, "So hey, Evans, lets go up to the Astronomy Tower and-"

"Push you off?" I snapped, knowing all to well where this was going.

"Evans, that hurt," he said, shaking his head, still grinning, "I was merely suggesting that we take part in the activity that occupies people when they're up there. It would make us very incognito. Nobody would ever suspect us."

I glared at him, "So, we'd have to go undercover by blending in?"

"Exactly."

"By snogging?"

"Precisely."

"Potter, I'd rather snog the giant squid."

"Kinky," he said, ducking as I attempted to slap him.

Everyone in the whole of Hogwarts knew that the Astronomy Tower was the spot to get off with someone. Therefore, every corner of the tower was filled with very rumpled looking people as they practiced their snogging skills. Not a pretty sight sometimes. Once, I heard that someone caught the now-married Lestranges up there. No one knows who it was exactly; Bellatrix was never keen on getting caught. Rumour has that whoever caught them got shoved into the Vanishing Cabinet after being hexed within an inch of their life. I wouldn't doubt it. Sirius wasn't the only Black with a lack of manners.

Potter and I walked up the stairs to the tower, Potter humming annoying little love songs, even after I kicked him in the shins. We told off a grand total of five couples, including a Ravenclaw prefect I _knew_ should have been down in the dungeons, and a certain Ravenclaw Seeker. I took twenty points from Ravenclaw, and gave Lotus a detention, while Potter gleefully taunted Yao about his…preoccupation, and how Potter hoped it didn't inhibit his Quidditch skills, because he hated beating someone who was daydreaming about his girlfriend. I had to pinch him to make him shut his gob.

We started making our way back to Gryffindor Tower after that.

"So that's patrol?" Potter asked.

"What did you expect, Potter? Sneaking around in long black cloaks, hiding in the shadows and then yelling 'GOTCHA!' every time we catch someone?" I asked, looking at him, one eyebrow raised.

He ruffled his black hair and frowned a little, "I don't know. But I guess I expected something a little more exciting than bursting in on snogging couples. Personally, I don't _ever_ need to see Laurence Macmillan and Trixie Fawcett in that position," he gave a little shudder.

I laughed, "I know what you mean," I stopped laughing and looked at him, "Disappointed then?"

Potter shrugged, "Nah. Catching Yao and Lotus made my entire existence. Did you see them when we caught them? Lotus looked like she had tried putting her make up on with her eyes closed, and Yao's shirt was practically torn to shreds!"

I looked at him disgustedly as he sniggered and continued making fun of Lotus and Yao. He said some particularly nasty things that I didn't want to think about too hard, just in case I retched.

"Well," Potter said, yawning as we climbed through the portrait hole, "That was entertaining. Thank you for a lovely evening, Evans."

"Potter, when you say it that way, it sounds more like a date than a HEAD PATROL," I snapped, "And if you even _think_ that-"

He put his hand over my mouth and looked down at me, pretending to be all serious, although his eyes were positively dancing with laughter, "Shh, Evans. People are sleeping."

He let go of my face and walked away with a wink, leaving me blushing crimson and glaring. He paused at the foot of the stairs that lead to the boys' dormitories and called over his shoulder to me.

"G'night, Evans."

I resisted the urge to stick out my tongue like a five-year-old and huffed up to my dormitory.

Boys were absolutely infuriating.

* * *

_Well then. There's that. As I said, I'm not sure how long the next chapter will take. I know where I want it to go...just can't get it there. So it might be a little pooey in the middle. But I do hope you all enjoyed this chapter- and PLEASE REVIEW. hugglers to e.jameson for her marv reviews- I really really really appreciate it. but i hope the rest of you review!_

_luuuuuurve you loads! _

_--NeverAPrefect_

* * *


	7. Chapter 6

_**Disclaimer: **I am not quite brilliant enough to invent these people. I have been trying, though. My brain simply just does not want to get smarter._

_OH MY GIDDY GODS TROUSERS. You lot are amazing. I DOUBLED my reviews for the last chapter!! YAY!! SO yes- keep it up. Reviews positively make my life. So my special thank yous and huggles to Sir Spamalot (I like that nom, by the way), the now usual (yay) LilyHeartsMarauders, LILYandJAMESareCUTE, grayscales, Love-Eward-Cullen (hey, me too!) and the dim but loved bellasutton. and lastly, OH GOODNESS, BREAKING DAWN IS OUT SOON. I have already preordered it from amazon. So has my best mate, audge. We are going to be Team Edward freakers. By the way- isn't that series MAD? Its so bloody fab I don't know what to do with myself. If you'd like to review simply to go loopy with me, please, the more the merrier. But now, loves, please read!_

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**Chapter Six: Plans and Stalkers**

I was down in the Great Hall early the next morning, in a pointless attempt to avoid my dorm mates. After I got back to Gryffindor Tower last night, I had been kept awake by a mad blonde and a rather annoyed little Irish girl.

Emily was taking this Transfiguration thing way too seriously.

She ranted on and on, not talking entirely to herself, but also not talking entirely to Bridget or I. Bridget finally had a nervy spaz around one in the morning and had yelled at Emily to kindly shut her gob. Emily had not taken this well. So here I was, eating breakfast, sitting between one half asleep and still fuming Bridget, and a rather offended and stressed Emily. And it was only the second day of classes. Charming.

We had been sitting there for about five minutes when Emily stood up abruptly, gracefully stumbling into the aisle.

"I've had an epiphany. I'm going to the library. See you in Herbology?" she called over her shoulder to us as she rushed out of the Great Hall.

"What in the name of Merlin's most baggy y-fronts was that all about?" Bridget asked as she opened one eye blearily. If she had been more awake, I think she might have looked astonished. As it was, I don't think the whole of Gringotts could have made her look even remotely interested.

"Haven't the foggiest," I replied, watching Emily as she flung open the door, nearly ran into someone, and then vanish from sight.

Suddenly I was more preoccupied with those who Emily had nearly flattened.

Potter and Black were walking in lazily, both looking even more exhausted than Bridget and I. Remus and Peter trailed them, Peter almost sleepwalking.

Somebody had a late night.

I turned back to Bridget, who was now watching the Hufflepuff banner intently. As intently as a person whose eyelids are magically propped open can.

I studied my friend apprehensively. She looked like she was thinking. The last time this happened, she ended up on a broomstick, hanging upside down in a tree in her attempts at Quidditch. Potter and Black had wet themselves laughing over that one. And never let Bridget live it down. To this day, whenever the word 'broomstick' or 'Quidditch' comes up in a conversation involving Bridget, someone makes a snide comment about it.

Bridget turned to me, now completely awake. She looked like she was on the verge of saying something, but then her pale brow furrowed and she frowned at me, "Why are you staring at me like that, Lily-girl?"

Her mother calls her 'Bridget-girl' when she's on the verge of getting in trouble. I think it's a little redundant, but I dare you to tell Mrs. O'Leary that. She's got Bridget's temper, and is forty times as frightening. Once, Patrick told Katie to get knotted, and Mrs. O'Leary heard. Patrick had been on the receiving end of a very painful Stinging Hex.

"Nothing," I said innocently.

She glared, "You sound like Sirius."

I opened my mouth to say something, undoubtedly containing at least one profanity and several insults, but she beat me.

"I've been thinking."

I sighed, "Yes, I assumed that. The look of intense concentration as your brain dusted itself off gave that away."

She gave a rude gesture with her hand that Mrs. O'Leary would _not _have liked at all, "Emily needs to relax."

I refrained from rolling my eyes again. I try not to do it too often. Takes away from the moment when it's absolutely necessary, "I do believe I've heard that somewhere before."

"I'm thinking she needs someone to show her how to relax. To relax her. Because she clearly can't do _that_ on her own."

I looked at her, silently allowing her to continue.

"She needs a man."

I snorted, "A _man_? Are you planning on finding one of those at Hogwarts? Because I doubt Professor Slughorn dates students."

Bridget blinked, "Let me shake that off," she shook violently, as if she had been standing out in bloody freezing weather for the past day, "No, Lily. She needs a boyfriend. I think it will do her a lot of good. I mean, Sean relaxes me. He does this thing where, when I'm stressed or angry, he wraps his arms around me and snogs me in-"

"Bridget! Enough detail!" I exclaimed. I didn't hear that, I didn't hear that…lalalalala. Not listening.

Bridget smacked my arm, "Well, what do you think?"

I thought about it, making a mental list of pros and cons in my head. Emily _did_ need to relax. There was simply no way around that. She would give herself a bloody funny turn if she didn't relax. But Emily had never had a boyfriend. The one time _I _did, in fifth year (So it lasted three days. Curse me now.) Emily had nearly had a panic attack and gone catatonic. Honestly. Bridget and I thought that she'd have to go to hospital wing. Emily never really liked the idea of boyfriends in school. She had once said that they distract you. I thought that was brilliant. Granted, I also thought that turning a needle into a matchstick was complex transfiguration at the time, but still. I thought until Bridget looked like she might poke me with a knife. (Patience was not counted among her strengths)

"I think," I took a bite of eggs and chewed slowly. Bridget raised her eyebrows expectantly, "I think that's brilliant."

Bridget grinned, mischief decorating her blue eyes, "So who then? Who do we talk into dating a banshee?"

I chuckled and the two of us surveyed the Great Hall, which was now almost full. Some boys were ruled out immediately based on various things- height, (couldn't be shorter) year, (first years? Nasty) and house (Slytherins were out. Nobody in their right mind would date Avery.)

"Kenny Epping?"

"No, too stupid."

"Gabriel Prewett?"

"Taken. Regulus Black?"

"Please tell me you're joking."

"Joking. Sirius would murder her. And then murder his brother."

I pursed my lips and surveyed the room. There had to be _someone_ in here who would be good for Emily. Then someone at the Ravenclaw table caught my eye. He was tall, with golden-brown hair, blue eyes, plenty of muscles… Quidditch-playing, a prefect…

"What about Chuck Wilmington?" I asked, nodding at his back.

Bridget looked up and down the Ravenclaw table, "Where?'

"There," I pointed quickly and cautiously, "Next to Yao Chang. Across from Aaron Diggory," I named the Snogging Seeker and the youngest Diggory boy.

"Oh, pity Aaron's not older. He'd be perfect if he weren't a fifth year," Bridget said idly as she scanned the table. Then she spotted him. Her eyes lit, "He's perfect. I'd bet-"

CRACK.

With a loud noise, the fruit trifles- which had, until this point, been merely artfully shaped to look like centaurs- started prancing up and down the tables, scattering sausages as they flung chunks of various breakfast foods at each other, hitting the occasional first year and Slytherin in the eye.

I looked down the Gryffindor table and saw the Marauders. Remus was pink about the ears, hiding his grin in his waffles, Peter was trying to busy himself with his fork- wasn't working because he kept dropping it, Black was smirking haughtily, and Potter was surveying the room with languid amusement, as if nothing out of the ordinary was occurring.

Despite myself, I laughed. Not uproariously, more like sniggered. Although I knew that I would undoubtedly be the one cleaning this up, it was quite amusing to see Avery stupidly try to wipe egg out of his eyes while a trifle centaur idly sprinkled salt and pepper on said egg. And besides, everyone was laughing now. Especially the Hufflepuffs, whose trifles were now using spoons to catapult grapes at each other, and using plates as shields. Plates that were not always empty.

Professor Dumbledore clapped his hands and called our attention, just as the centaurs again became immobile, "What an amusing breakfast! Cordial thanks to the pranksters who came up with this one. Next time, I'd like to see them tango," he said with a grin. I got the distinct impression that he knew it was the Marauders. I wondered if there would ever again be a time when everyone knew _exactly _who was behind every bit of mischief in Hogwarts. Because we certainly did.

Dumbledore chuckled, "While this was most amusing, I'm afraid that I'm going to have to ask our Head Boy, Head Girl, and prefects to stay for a bit and clean this up," he sat back down.

I groaned. I would have breakfast in my hair for hours.

The rest of the students filed out, laughing and regaling each other with tales of what the trifle centaurs were doing at their ends of the tables.

"That was brilliant! Wonder who it was?" said a clearly clueless second year Gryffindor.

"I saw one start giving a Slytherin a porridge facial!" cawed a Ravenclaw to her friend.

"Did you see that? I wonder if we'll ever be able to do magic like _that_!" squeaked a little Hufflepuff first year with eyes as big as saucers.

I scoffed. Somehow, Potter, Black, Remus, and Peter had the entire school worshipping them by day two. If that brain power could be harnessed and channelled into something constructive, we might actually see You-Know-Who defeated.

Soon the only people left in the Great Hall were the prefects, Potter, and me. Potter grinned and walked over to where I was standing, telling some prefects where to start with the clean up.

"You know, Evans, there is an easier way to do this," he gestured to the bloody stupid mess that he and his bloody stupid friends had made.

I looked at him, "Oh, really, Potter? For some reason, I _highly _doubt that. I distinctly recall _somebody_ once mentioning that the Marauders did not allow their work to be Vanished."

He looked quite affronted, "Now, Evans, what gives you the idea that my mates and I are responsible for this?"

"Potter, I may not be a prankster, but I most certainly am not dim," I replied as I crossed my arms over my chest and tapped my foot. Really, you think that he'd know this by now.

Potter smiled, "Catch on quick, don't you, Evans? But you could at least gather everything into a nice neat pile and then pick it up."

My cheeks flushed. Why didn't I think of that? That made perfect sense. Oh, no. Here it was: the end of life as we knew it. Potter had come up with a good idea. I needed to be admitted to St. Mungo's at once. Now I was bloody delusional. Or maybe Potter should go instead. He had apparently had a personality transplant. Had this been fifth year, or even last year, he would have been laughing himself dotty at our efforts at cleaning while casually relaxing on a bench.

Potter threw a smirk at me and winked as he waved his wand and said a Summoning Charm that we had learned fourth year. Instantly, every piece of centaur-touched food was in a neat little ('little' being a loose interpretation) pile in front of Potter and me. Some of the prefects looked stunned, and were staring dumbly at the now empty space where they had been cleaning.

"Well," Potter said, clapping his hands together, "I think my work here is finished. See you later, Evans."

He turned and walked out of the Great Hall. I groaned in exasperation as I called out to the prefects, "Come on, you lot. Everything's up here, we just have to get rid of it now."

After the mess in the Great Hall was cleaned up, I dashed up to my dormitory to grab my Arithmancy book, silently cursing Potter and his newly-quiet cockiness with every step. I grabbed my book and then went back downstairs to the Arithmancy room, and received a sharp glare from Professor Vector as I walked in.

"Sorry, Professor, I had to stay in the Great Hall to clean up," I said in a rush.

Professor Vector gave a thin smile, looking very much like Professor McGonagall. It was quite scary, "Yes, I had heard, Miss Evans. Mister Potter kindly informed me that you were finishing up when he arrived. Now, if you would please take you seat, we can continue with our lesson. I'm afraid the only open seats are in the back," she said with a vague gesture to the back of the room.

Black waved wickedly as me, giving little 'come hither' looks. The only open seat was next to him. Brilliant.

"How pleasant to see you again, Evans," Black said, as I reluctantly set down my book on the desk next to him, "James here was kind enough to mention that you took care of our little mess downstairs."

Potter was on the other side of Black, and as Black spoke, he raised his eyebrows at me. I gave a brittle smile. What a git.

I looked from Black's annoyingly handsome face to Potter's also annoyingly not-quite-as-handsome-but-still-quite-handsome face and back, "I didn't know you two were in Arithmancy. I thought brains were a requirement for this class, and well, seeing as you two don't have any…"

Black look hurt, "Now, Evans, that's a bit harsh. We were in your class last year. In the back of the room. We usually slept. Of course, James spent most of the class staring at your head and daydreaming, if that counts-" his comment was punctuated by a sharp smack upside the head from Potter.

That would explain a great many things. The sleeping and daydreaming, of course.

"I thought you both got 'Troll' on your O.W.L.s," I commented dryly as I pulled out my book.

Potter smiled, "Evans, you only wish we were that thick," he stretched back, "Sorry to burst your bubble, but no one can compete with Avery and Mullciber."

Black laughed and Professor Vector threw him a glare. He flashed a smile and tossed his hair back in an elegant gesture that Potter's hair would never be able to replicate. I shook my head. So did Professor Vector.

"Black, if you put half as much time doing school work as you do trying to get _out_ of doing school work, you would have better marks than Remus," I commented, rummaging in my rucksack, trying to find a quill.

I surfaced and saw both Potter and Black giving me incredulous looks, as if I had just suggested they jump in the lake and taunt the merpeople.

"Not that you'd understand, Evans, but trouble-making is an art," Potter commented, putting his nose in the air and crossing his arms over his chest. He looked just like my sister.

"Honestly, Evans. It is a rare gift to be able to cause trouble as well as we do," Black imitated Potter's posture.

"You know," I said casually, as if we were all having a stroll around the Quidditch pitch, "I_ was_ having a very important conversation before your lovely little centaurs decided to lob a piece of sausage into my hair. Which, I might add, had recently been shampooed," I glared pointedly at them.

Both of their impeccably prissy postures crumpled immediately. Black gave a bark of laughter, and received another glare from Professor Vector. He again smiled sweetly at her before looking back at me. Potter, meanwhile, looked as if he was constipated. I think he was trying very hard to not laugh at me. Yes, that was most definitely it. I was deeply regretting that I had one friend in Care of Magical Creatures and one in Muggle Studies right now.

"Really, Evans? What conversation could possibly have been more important than trifle centaurs?" Potter asked me, his eyes gleaming wickedly.

"One that involved your dear friend. Moony, I think you call him?" I said lightly as I turned to the page we were on in our books.

They both stopped and stared at me.

"No need to act all shocked," I muttered huffily, "We _do_ talk about you sometimes."

"As long as it has to do with how incredibly good-looking I am, or how one of your mates rates me, then I'm fine," Black said, leaning back in his chair.

"It was about the _Transfiguration project_, you dolt," I hissed.

Black threw Potter a quick glance. Unlike at lunch yesterday, Potter seemed more alright with this now. He didn't spontaneously combust, at least.

"What about the project, Evans?" Potter asked.

I smiled, feeling very devious and slightly brilliant, "Bridget and I have a way that we think will get Emily to calm down and get out of Remus's hair about this whole thing."

"Oh, really? And how are you going to do that?" Black grinned knowingly, as if daring me to have a stupid response. What a little wanker.

"We have decided to fix her up with someone. A boy someone," I added, knowing all to well what would come next if I didn't. Potter and Black were not known for being very politically correct.

Oddly enough, Black had a less-obvious, but nonetheless extremely Potter-like reaction to this information. A Potter-like reaction, when Potter was told something along the lines of 'Oh, yeah, James. Lily up and married the Lucius Malfoy'. Potter didn't seem to notice, but I did. But like I said, it was very miniscule compared to what Potter's reaction would have been, were it me and not Emily we were talking about.

"Who?" Black asked, having now reassembled his face into an oh-so-casual mask. But I could see that he really did care. It was in his eyes.

"Chuck Wilmington."

Black and Potter looked positively revolted.

"The Ravenclaw Chaser?" Potter asked doubtfully. Only Potter- Quidditch, trouble-making, flirting. His three priorities.

"That obnoxious prat?" Black asked in a horrified tone.

I glared, "He is _not_ an obnoxious prat. Alasdair McLaggen was an obnoxious prat. And yes, Potter, the Ravenclaw Chaser."

Potter looked appalled, and glanced at Black, who now looked like he had eaten something particularly nasty from Honeydukes. Or had just inhaled Essence of Troll.

"You _can't _let her go out with Wilmington. He's...a bloody wanker!" Black sputtered.

"We can, and we will, Black. Besides, what do you care? You're always on Emily to relax, and now we think that we've come up with a way to get that to happen. Now, _if _you two don't mind, I have a class to pay attention to, lest I fail my N.E.W.Ts. Feel free to join me," I said acidly and turned to face the front of the room with a toss of my hair.

….

I walked up to Bridget at lunch. I had practically run out of the greenhouses in order to beat Emily, who luckily wasn't there yet. Though I would be in trouble with her for leaving her by herself after the bell rang. But she could deal with it. She didn't need to hear this conversation.

"I think that what you said at breakfast, about Chuck, is a really good plan," I muttered and took the place at the Gryffindor table beside her.

She looked up at me, her eyes excited, "Yeah, me too. I think it'll work splendidly."

"Listen, I told Potter and Black in Arithmancy and-" I started.

"Told them what? And since when do you tell Potter and Black anything except 'bugger off'?" Emily said lightly, coming up next to us, looking much calmer than she had earlier- I had noticed this in Herbology, but hadn't gotten to say anything. Professor Stalk had been on time for once.

"Nothing," I said quickly, throwing Bridget a look, "So your epiphany went well?"

She grinned. A boy who was walking by stumbled. I've often told Emily that she needs a sign around her neck that reads something along the lines of 'Yes, I look like a veela when I smile. Be warned'. But of course she just laughs at me. There would be a considerable decrease in the amount of tripping accidents by boys between the ages of eleven to seventeen at Hogwarts if she wore such a sign. The newly-appointed Madam Pomfrey would never have anything to do.

"Oh, yes. I think I've hit upon a topic for Remus's and my project," Emily said contentedly. Bridget groaned and slammed her head down onto the table in front of us.

"Ow," she muttered into the wood.

Emily chuckled and rolled her eyes. Bridget sat up, a lovely red welt on her forehead. I laughed at her. Bridget failed miserably when it came to grace. Something she had been teasing Emily about since our first Hogwarts Express ride together. But the fact was that Emily made lifting a glass look graceful, whereas Bridget couldn't walk across a bloody flat surface without finding something to trip over. Mad, really.

"Evans, we don't have patrol tonight, do we?" Potter asked, pausing as he walked by.

I looked up at him, "No, Potter. We had it last night. Or don't you remember?"

He grinned, a grin that lit his face with a wicked light, "Oh, I haven't forgotten. Neither has Chang," he smirked and Black sniggered, "But that's good. That we don't have patrol, I mean."

"Really? And why's that?" I raised an eyebrow at him.

"I have a study whatsit with Lotus in the library. She wants to get started on our project for McGonagall," he said unaffectedly.

For some reason, the fact that Potter would be studying with Lotus Chen _alone_ really irked me. I got this weird clenching sensation in my stomach and my throat felt like I had just swallowed a bludger. I don't know what happened, or why I felt like I did. It was definitely peculiar. I felt almost as if someone had pulled out the bottom of my stomach and just left it out.

I opened my mouth to say something smart back, but Potter and his mates had already walked off.

To this day, I have no idea what possessed me to do what I did next.

A great portion of gold will be spent at St. Mungo's in order for me to undergo testing to figure out why.

"Oi, Black! If you're not busy, I think that we should get started on our project, too. Animagi, you said?" I called after them as they sat down a bit away from us.

Potter whipped his head around to look at me, his hazel eyes flashing. He quickly schooled his face into a smug mask, but the expression didn't reach his eyes. They looked…hurt and jealous behind his glasses. It made me sad, and guilty, actually.

Black meanwhile, had turned to look at me as if I had sprouted an extra head, or had Stinksap all over my face. Then, Remus muttered something to his mates and something I said seemed to sink in with all of the Marauders. They turned and glared at Black, who gave a guilty grin and then looked back at me.

"Uh, sure, Evans. D'you want to study in the Common Room then?" he called down the table to me.

"Sure," I said brightly, "Sounds like a plan. See you then!"

Bridget surveyed me with a wicked glint in her eyes, "If you don't see them before then."

Oh, true. They _had_ been almost stalking me. Being in all my classes and such. Bit annoying, really. Because what I wanted most was to be able to see the Marauders' faces every single waking moment of my bloody day.

And Sirius Black looked like a hag's backside.

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_The end of le chaptre! Fini! Now I am going to go eat breakfast (My brother came over...and my sister-in-law brought jammy dodgers and my nephew.) So although it is ridiculously early (half seven, to be exact) I am going to grace the world with my presence. REVIEW, s'il vous plait! And I will love you until the end of eternity!_

_Luuuuuuuurve,_

_--NeverAPrefect_


	8. Chapter 7

_**Disclaimer: **Sadly, I am merely me, an exhausted little English girl. Not a world renown author. _

_Hello again, chaps! I am wonderously apologetic about not getting this up sooner. But sadly, my family and I decided to go on a romp to Glasgow to visit friends of ours. Allow me to say that a drive that long, in a car with four of my six brothers is rather high on my list of Things-I-Never-Need-To-Do-Again. Then my second eldest brother decided to ditch us and go lolligag around with his mates in London before he goes back to university. Stupid git. And then i had footie camp with my mates. Isn't it a little mad to have footie practice in August? If you think so, I am most definately in cahoots with you there- I'm absolutely knackered! My legs are going to be begging for amputation by Friday. So now for my thank yous (NOTE- this last post was ridiulously short of its usual standard, may I say. Not very many reviews. I was quite sad) So thank yous and luuurve to LilyHeartsMarauders, leonidas, and e.jameson and Tweetiekins (I think I forgot you last time. So sorry!)_

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**Chapter Seven: Responsibility**

The Marauder's decided to grace me with their presence in Defence Against the Dark Arts as well. Then, shockingly, we both had free period at the same time. I would have been more shocked finding a goblin in Gringotts. Otherwise known as not shocked at all.

Our Defence Against the Dark Arts professor gave us the same dull speech about N.E.W.T.s that all our other teachers had given us. Right down to the exact wording in some places. I could probably recite it word for word at this point.

During free period, Emily, Bridget and I went up to Gryffindor Tower to get to work on our homework.

"Eurgh," Emily said as we plopped down in three very comfy armchairs by the fire, "I can't believe we have to do Patronuses _again. _Mine never did anything! It just floated like a silvery puddle."

Bridget chuckled, "I remember that. It looked more like a duvet than anything else," her blue eyes glittered, "Maybe it _was_ a duvet. Mine was a sparrow,"

I laughed, "Ferocious, Bridget. A sparrow. I can really imagine a dementor being afraid of a sparrow."

She faced me and raised an eyebrow, "Yeah, Lily? What was yours again? A _doe?_ Not exactly a fierce beast, is that? 'Oh, no! Run! A doe Patronus!'"

I flicked my wand. A pillow hit her squarely in the face. She let out a stream of choice, although muffled, swear words.

After that, we decided that we should probably do some of the homework we had been given. It was only the first bloody week of term, and I already had enough homework to fill the library twice over. A few worn-looking sixth years wandered in, looking just as all-in as I felt. Alice Gordon gave me a faint smile and then dropped her Potions book down on a table with a thud loud enough to wake everyone within a 3,000 kilometre radius.

Fifth years and down came in when their classes were done, some still jabbering gaily, as if there weren't dozens of other people seriously contemplating using an Unforgivable Curse on them. The first-years looked as if they had just walked through a ghost, and a few were complaining rather loudly about a batty old hag that taught Transfiguration. Not a wise thing to say about your Head of House.

Just as one first year boy, (I think his name was John Whitlow) said something particularly nasty about our dear Professor McGonagall, the Marauders walked in…and walked up right behind him

"Now, that's not very nice, is it?" Potter asked lightly, taking the boy by his collar.

"Not very clever either," Black said airily.

"No indeed," said Remus idly.

Peter gave a little smirk, though his watery eyes still darted around anxiously.

"Whitlow," Potter said, looking down at the now trembling little berk, "It _is_ Whitlow?" Whitlow nodded quickly, "I'd like to enlighten you- it really is not in your best interest to be insulting Her Worship, our lovely Transfiguration professor. Sadly, and it truly pains me to have to do this, but that'll be five points from Gryffindor."

"Don't complain, mate. It could have been more," Black silenced Whitlow, just as the boy was about to complain.

I stared. Potter _never_ did anything even remotely like that. It was as if the world had turned on its bloody axis! Just as he walked away from the…incident…he found my eyes. For a brief moment, his hazel eyes burned into my own green eyes and it was hard to breathe. He then smiled, almost shyly, and shrugged.

I was going mental.

The Marauders all walked up to their dormitory, and I stared after them.

"Er, Lil? What the bloody hell are you doing?" Bridget asked, looking up from her Care of Magical Creatures essay.

"Nothing," I muttered, "Did you see that just now?"

Emily frowned and brushed her bangs out of her eyes, "Potter being responsible, you mean? Yeah, I though I was hallucinating at first."

I almost sighed with relief, "Good, I'm not the only one who thought it was a bit…odd."

Emily gave a short laugh, "Odd? I though it was wonderfully refreshing. Goes back to what I told you about him maturing, Lily."

I threw a glare at her. Swotty friends and their swotty reminders about their swotty ideas.

The three of us working in almost complete silence for a bit, each of us doing work for a different class. I was busily solving Arithmancy equations, while Bridget was attempting to remember what the identifying marks of a thestral were. Bit difficult, since she couldn't actually see them. Emily was busily writing an essay about the impact of kitchen appliances on Muggle life, with an emphasis on toasters. (She was obviously not Muggle-born and was taking Muggle Studies)

I was answering a question from Emily about where the bread goes when you push the toaster lever down when I was rudely interrupted.

"Sorry to rain on the parade, but Evans, weren't we going to do our Transfiguration tonight?" Black said, coming up next to us and sweeping his dark hair out of his grey eyes.

I looked up at him, "Oh, yeah, sorry about that. Where do you want to study?"

Black surveyed the room with the air of one surveying a massive estate, "Ah, well, my lady, it seems that just across the green there, we have a lovely little table, remarkably clear of all first years. Shall we?"

He was offering me his arm, as if escorting me to a grand ball. I laughed and pushed his arm away, grabbing my bag and following him to the table he had pointed out.

"So," I started, the moment we sat down, "I got out several books from the library yesterday before dinner, but I wasn't sure what information we'd be looking for. In all of them, it says that Animagi are-"

"Whoa, Evans, hold your unicorns there," Black said, looking slightly alarmed, "Calm down. Animagi aren't all that difficult a concept. Wizard that can turn into one animal at will. That's it."

I shot him a glare, "Yes, wonderful, Black. I'm sure that will get us an 'Outstanding'. Just look through the books for now."

He sighed loudly and grabbed a book. We read in a stormy silence for a minute when I realized something.

"Do your partners in crime realize that you're down here with Lily the Loony?" I asked dryly.

Black sniggered, "Yes. James is in the library, studying with Lotus; Remus is upstairs, reading up for his Defence Against the Dark Arts essay that's due next week; and Peter is probably picking lint from his navel or something just as harebrained," he paused and then studied me, "And not all of us refer to you as Lily the Loony. Just me."

"Why thank you, Black. I'm touched," I retorted.

There was a lull in our little teeny conversation, and I was getting ready to turn back to my book when Black suddenly spoke up.

"Are you and Bridget really going to try and get Emily with Wilmington?"

I looked up at him, surprise on my face, "Yeah. But why do you care?"

"Because Wilmington is a pig. I went to Hogsmeade with one of his old girlfriends and she said he's a complete arse," his face hardened into a bitter mask, "And Emily deserves better. _Any _girl deserves better."

I blinked. Twice. Sirius Black, bloke who had dated every girl in the whole of Hogwarts, actually _cared_ if girls got hurt? What next? Voldemort handing out lollipops to Muggle-borns? What was this world coming to? First Potter actually having a brain, now Black actually having a heart. Merlin's dress robes.

"While I find you concern astounding, Black, Bridget and I think that Chuck is perfect. So could you please keep your greasy nose out of my business?" I sniffed, though I was indeed still amazed that he cared.

Instead of grinning or spitting or just plain being an obnoxious little twot, Black chuckled, "My greasy nose out of your business? Now, I don't think that necessarily describes me, being as devilishly attractive as I am, but I _do_ rather like that saying…"

I rolled my eyes and flicked a piece of wadded up parchment at him. The two of us read, took a few notes, and exchanged little bits every now and then until Black sighed loudly, "Evans, I'm bored off my behind. Can we be done now?"

He sounded like a bloody three year old, "Alright. But we do need to actually get on this, you know."

"Yeah, sure," too late, he was already mentally onto the next thing.

We closed our books and I gathered my parchment and went up to my dormitory, muttering about irresponsible troublemakers named Sirius Black.

* * *

_Well then. There's that. I'm working on the next chapter. I have officially outlined each one (very vaguely), so I should make this routine. On a different note; REVIEW PLEASE!! PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE with trecle tart! And trifle!_

--Never a Prefect


	9. Chapter 8

_**Disclaimer: **Sadly, I am not the mastermind of these characters. It would be rather marv if I was, though. But we must credit JKR for that_

_Oh good lord! There are several things I'd like to say. One- I am truly sorry for this. Taking so long to publish this(but as a reward for your waiting- here is a very long chapter! My longest ever!) A number of things delayed its progress, including me getting in trouble for assisting my brothers in an ordeal invovling a jelly roll, some cream topping, an oblong balloon, a knife, and a cream-spattered Mummy dearest. My punishment- no computer. Frustrating. That and the fact that this chpater simply wasn't working. I still am not sure if I like it, so please tell me if you do. Which leads me to my next little deal- reviews were absolutely spiffing! I love you all. Luuuurve goes out in neat little parcels to greenricecakes99, e,jameson, idreamoffantasy, kiki99, raindaance, Secrets of the Roman Empire, Zaziness, Artemis Cullen (is that your real surname? if so, I am very jealous- mine is very boring and not a vampirey) Kylie Potter (also a marv surname) TeNnIsPlAyEr, dina07, Yours Sincerely Serendipity (I like that name- very cool), polkadotparade442, and LilyHeartsMarauders. You are all wonderful people._

* * *

**Chapter Eight: Party**

It took Bridget and me quite a bit of time to get Chuck by himself to drop little hints about his supposed-liking to Emily. We mentioned at breakfast one day to Emily that Chuck thought she was quite tidy, and Emily had blushed pink. Getting Chuck to actually say that would be something slightly on the harder side.

We tried. We really did. But Chuck was always surrounded by his Quidditch team, his non-Quidditch playing friends, or a rather unshakable gaggle of second and third year girls. Mostly Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs, but I am ashamed to say that I saw several Gryffindors following him as well. Bridget had even tried sneaking into the loos to talk to him. Peeves found her before she could and twisted her hair around the statue of Barnabas the Barmy. She was livid as an earwig on livid pills by the time I found her.

Finally, one afternoon, I spotted Chuck, alone, coming out of Professor Flitwick's office.

"Chuck!" I called, before he could join his people.

He turned and smiled. Merlin, he was quite the dish, "Oh, hey, Lily."

I smiled, "Hey. How are you?"

"Good. I was just going to meet up with Yao," he said in his delightful way. He was from Northern Ireland, so talked a little different.

I smiled, "Well, then I won't keep you. I just wanted to let you know that Professor Slughorn says that he wants to have a sort of start-of-term get together for the Slug Club," I winced. I was not really huge on the whole Slug Club idea, "He's says it's been ages since we've all gotten together, and he wants a little fun whatsit. But it's going to be one of those 'bring a mate or date' things."  
He shrugged and smiled, his blue eyes glittering, "You going with anyone, Lily?"

"Erm, y-yes," I stuttered.

He frowned, "Who with?"

Good question. I pulled out a random name, "Er…Remus. Remus Lupin."

"Isn't he in the Slug Club?"

"Yes."

"Oh," he grinned, "Well, then, I'll have to find a date, but I'll see you there."

Here was the perfect opportunity to stage my devious plan, "Oh, well I know that my mate Emily Cummings is free. And it's Thursday next, just so you know."

Chuck nodded and looked up and the ceiling. (I did, too. Nothing interesting up there, if you're wondering.)

"Emily? Blonde hair?" he asked.

"Really pretty? That's her," I said with a smile. I needed to perfect my evil laugh. I felt very much like…I don't know. Some type of mastermind.

"Huh," he said, looking delightfully pensive.

I nearly burst out of my knickers with glee, "Well, it was nice to chat with you, Chuck. See you later."

I practically skipped down the corridor I was so bloody thrilled. My evil plan vas vorking! Mwahaha. That would have been more dramatic if it hadn't been punctuated by a rather loud cough-type gag.

Now all I had to do was tell Professor Slughorn that he needed to have a party.

…

"Oh, Professor, it would be lovely! I've missed my fellow Slugs so much!" I pleaded.

Professor Slughorn looked at me with a smug smile, "I do know that it is a wonderful thing to be surrounded by others who share your intelligence level, Miss Evans. Why, a few days ago, a former student of mine, a Darius Paxton- an Unspeakable, you know- was telling me all of his fond memories of the Slug Club, and how he wishes they could get together…hmm…Miss Evans, you may be onto something. A sort of welcome back party, you said?"

"Yes, Professor. It would be lovely if we could bring a date, or a friend. My _dear_ mate Bridget has expressed her jealousy to me more than once," I said. I was laying it on rather thick, but I really needed Professor to say yes.

Professor Slughorn's plump body nearly glowed with self-importance, "That is also a fine idea, young lady. I have often said that you will go on to be a wonderful witch, Miss Evans."

Good lord, did he ever shut his gob? "Thanks, Professor. So the Thursday next?"

He nodded and launched into another epic tale about some student of his who had done something absolutely stunning, changed the world of wizarding, wouldn't you guess. I politely (ish) excused myself and raced upstairs to Gryffindor Tower to tell Bridget my wonderful news.

Bridget and Emily were in the Common Room, lazing about. Potter, Black, and Peter were sitting in a corner whispering. Most likely how to blow up the dungeons and not get blamed, or something just a troublesome. Some first years were lounging around, acting incredibly naff; like they were the coolest people at Hogwarts now.

I sat down next to my friends and turned my face so Emily couldn't see it as I winked at Bridget. Emily was lazily flicking her wand back and forth and Bridget's curls were following it. They were both putting off coursework, since Emily was now content after finding a suitable topic for her Transfiguration project (which she still wouldn't tell me).

"Oh, I ran into Professor Slughorn while I was coming back from McGonagall's office," I said lightly.

Bridget looked at me, "Yeah? So?"

"He says there's some sort of Slug Club party-type whatsit next Thursday. A 'mate-or-date' type thing," I said, twirling my wand in my palm.

Bridget pulled a face, "If you had a boyfriend, Lily, you could take _him_, but seeing as you don't…"

I mock-glared at her. We both knew we were acting, "Bridget, just because I don't chat up every boy in Hogwarts in my free time…Oh, and I ran into Chuck on the way back here."

"Merlin, Lily! You must have caused quite the hold up if you're running into all these people!" Bridget said, a little too dramatically, in my opinion. I shot her a "shut up, please" look.

Emily blushed nicely, "Chuck?"

I nearly peed myself with glee, "Yeah. I heard that he might be asking you to accompany him to the party."

Bridget shot me a look. I smiled back at her. Just then, the portrait swung open and a dishevelled Remus walked through.

"Excuse me," I muttered to my friends as a leaped over our homework pile and hurried over to Remus.  
"I need to talk to you. Now," I said to him through clenched teeth.

He looked startled and glanced over my shoulder at his friends, but let me lead him out of the Common Room and into the corridor.

I hauled him around the corner, safely out of sight of any possibly approaching Gryffindors, "Remus, I really need you to help me."

He looked at me a little oddly, "Er, why?"

I gave a very rushed explanation of what was going on, and what I might have gotten him into by telling Chuck that we were going to the party together. When I was done explaining, he looked at me and pursed his lips.

"Look, Lily. I want to help you. Really. I think you're a nice person and all, but I don't think that I can do this. It…well, it might hurt James a little more than I'd like."

Well. That was the direction I _least_ expected this conversation to go. Potter? What the bloody hell did he have to do with anything? I asked Remus that very question.

"Lily," he shook his head, exasperated, "I know you're not that dim. So come off it. You _know_ James has liked you since about second year. Do you really want to be around him when one of his best mates takes the girl he fancies to a party? Because personally, that is one of the things I'd rather not see."

Alrightie. Well. It seemed that I needed to do some more devious masterminding. I pondered the dilemma for a bit before the invisible witch in my mind shouted, "Lumos!" and the perfect plan hit me right on the head.

Remus was looking at me rather hesitantly when I refocused my attention on him, "Just tell Potter that you saved me by mere seconds from having to go with Severus. He'll have to forgive you for that one."

Remus shrugged, "I guess. So I'll help you this once, Lily. But anything like this ever again, I highly suggest that you talk to James about helping you. I'm sure he'd adore going to party with you, even as a fake date."

I snorted as he walked off. I'd go to a party with Potter the same day dementors started giving chocolate frogs to little children.

Chuck _did_ ask Emily to the party. The next morning, at breakfast, Emily came into the Great Hall, looking positively radiantly flustered. Chuck had cornered her in the hall and asked her on her way back from the loos. Bridget and I silently congratulated each other with a wink and then went back to eating our porridge and sausage. (Which were both remarkably free of trifle centaurs)

Potter came up behind me; so bloody close that I could feel his breath on the top of my head. It made me shiver pleasantly. But I didn't like that pleasant shiver. It was those stupid hormones acknowledging that Potter was quite close to me.

"So, Evans, I hear my mate is saving you from having to endure Snivellus's presence," Potter said from behind me.

I flipped around to face him, not expecting his face to be as close as it was. There was an odd electric pull coming from him. Potter seemed to feel it too, because his eyes widened and he took a step back.

"Yes, Potter. Remus gallantly offered his services just before Snape could ask me to Slughorn's party," I said, desperately hoping that my cheeks weren't bright red.

Potter grinned, "Good. Nice to know Moony's good for something."

"Wait," Emily said, looking at me, "I thought that you and Snape were mat-"

I kicked her in the shins. The fact that once upon a time, Severus and I were once mates was probably not something to mention in front of Potter. Potter and Snape were…not the best of friends.

Potter walked down to his friends, who were sitting a ways down from my mates and I. Remus turned to raise his eyebrows at me questioningly. I mouthed 'thank you' and then turned back to my breakfast.

Thursday came up shockingly quickly, for something that was over a week away. I was absolutely buried in so much work that when Emily asked me what I was wearing to the party on Wednesday, I was so knackered that I didn't even register what she was talking about.

"Oh, for the love of all things magical, Lily," Emily rolled her eyes, "The Slug Club party tomorrow. The one Chuck asked me to."

I was aware of the fact that she blushed when she said Chuck's name, and felt myself glow in a very exhausted way. She hadn't shut up about Chuck since he asked her to the party. Bit annoying, really, if Bridget and I weren't the ones who orchestrated the whole thing. After (literally) ripping through her trunk, my trunk, Bridget's trunk (not that _that_ did much good- Emily is a good head taller than Bridget), Alice's and the other four sixth year girls' trunks, Emily finally decided to wear a very pretty skirt of Jane Bradshaw's and a cream sweater of mine. She then took a good century and a half in the bathroom, getting her hair perfect.

I studied her hair when she finally came out, "It's a knot."

Emily gave an exasperated sigh, "Well, if you bothered to look at it from the right direction, you would see that it is a very _nice_ knot."

I had been lying on my back, my head hanging off the edge of the bed so that my red hair obscured my vision slightly. Not to mention the fact that I was hanging with my head the wrong direction up. I groaned and righted myself. I propped myself up on my elbows and studied her perfectly coiffed hair.

My opinion?

"It still looks like a knot."

Emily glared, "Just because you decided to wear plain navy trousers and a blouse doesn't mean the rest of us are as careless."

What a little wet weed, "Em, relax. You look beautiful. You look wonderful. You look stunning. You also have to meet Chuck by the statue of Gregory the Smarmy in about ten minutes."

"I have to WHAT?!" Emily just about had a funny turn, "WHY DIDN'T YOU TELL ME?!"

Before I could explain that she had barely let me breathe for the past two hours, (Ever since I had announced my intent to wear the aforementioned navy trousers and blouse) I watched Emily grab her shoes, shoes that made me trip just looking at them, and race out of the dormitory faster than a bat out of hell, nearly running into Bridget on her way out.

"Merlin, where's she's going so fast?" Bridget asked as she stared after Emily.

"Her date," I said, slowly standing up.

Bridget gave a mischievous grin, "Excellent."

My sentiments exactly.

A few minutes later, I met Remus down in the Common Room. I must admit, I was quite excited to see the fruits of my labour being all lovey-dovey. I was absolutely certain that they would be the most adorable two people there…all golden and tall…

I had barely gotten down the stairs when Remus very nearly barrelled into me.

"Just so you know, I am getting so much poo about this from my mates. I sincerely hope that you never guilt me into doing anything like this ever again," he said as he brushed his shaggy sandy hair out of his face.

"Never fear, Remus. I promise I will never force you to go on a date with me ever again," I smirked.

He frowned, "When you say it that way, I see James's issue with-"

I laughed, "Calm down. Let's just go, before Emily decides to come and hunt me down. After personally tutoring her in Charms last year, I really don't need to be on the receiving end of one of her Bat-Bogey Hexes."

Remus and I dithered on our way to the dungeons. Neither of us was particularly looking forward to this little to-do. Although, yes, I was the one who suggested it to his Slugliness. We dithered in the Charms corridor, we dithered on the stairs, we dithered as long as two humans could possibly dither. But then, as all good things come to an end, we reached the Potions dungeon door. Why Professor Slughorn decided to have the party in the dungeons, I couldn't say. I though it was a supremely poor choice of venue. Honestly, a dungeon party?

"Ready?" Remus asked with a sigh.

"As ready as I'll ever be," I groaned.

Remus held the door open for me. (A very gentleman-like gesture. One he most definitely had not taught his mates) We walked in, and were immediately surrounded by obnoxious prats that I'd rather not associate with. I looked for Emily and Chuck, but didn't see them. Professor Slughorn had procured some punch and biscuits from the house-elves in the kitchens for the evening, and all around me were members of the Slug Club, past and present, eating biscuits and prattling on about a great matter of obnoxiously pompous things in an obnoxiously pompous way. Remus and I stood awkwardly in a corner until one of the people I never needed to see again came up to talk to me.

Alasdair McLaggen.

"Lily! I do say, it is wonderful to see you again!" he flashed a grin.

Alasdair was handsome in that almost-seedy cologne-advertisement way. He was also more conceited than Sirius Black and James Potter _put together. _He enjoyed letting everyone know the posh people he knew, or had at least met. Basically all things moronic rolled into a greasy little Scottish package.

"Charming, Alasdair, but I must be going. Remus and I wanted to talk to Professor Slughorn, and seeing how he's now free…" I trailed off. I grabbed Remus's hand and practically dragged him over to Slughorn.

"Wonderful party, Professor," I said, "I have _most_ enjoyed seeing all my former classmates."

Remus looked at me like I was loony (which I probably was) and then agreed with me. Slughorn beamed and thanked us, then excused himself to go talk to someone or other. I whirled on Remus. I was now really worried as to why Emily hadn't shown up

"Remus, this party has been going on for over an hour, and we have yet to see Emily," I said. I was quite panicked. What had happened? Emily was _never _late to anything. Especially not parties.

Remus's brows came together under his over-long sandy fringe, "I hadn't thought of that. It's really most unlike her. We really should go look for them _now._"

His response left me gobsmacked. A Marauder, caring? But then again, it was Remus and not Potter.

I practically went into a frenzy looking for Emily. Remus and I looked in the library, the corridor outside the Ravenclaw Common Room, all sorts of empty classrooms, the girls' loos (well, I did, not Remus) and a variety of other places. It turned out that Remus was really a Marauder, through and through. I had always though of him on the periphery of things, but he knew of and thought of places I didn't even know existed. How was beyond my knowledge. It was as if Hogwarts had been perfectly mapped out for him. Finally we stopped and took a breather. We had almost been running.

"Look, Lily, I know you're already worried about your friend," Remus began, "But I feel really funny about this. I mean, both James and Sirius have said that Chuck Wilmington is a pompous arse who doesn't know how to treat anybody right, especially girls. And well, coming from Sirius, that's saying something."

As much as I hated to admit it, he was very correct. Very correct. I then started to cry. And the fact that he had taken Black seriously, well, that said a lot. In my experience, Black was an annoying wanker. But then again, the Marauders did know him better than I did.

"I know now! And if anything happened to Emily-"

"Shhhh!" Remus hushed me.

I stopped. No one had ever hushed me before. Well, Potter had, but that was just because he's Potter. Before I could get mad at Remus, I heard something. It was like a soft ripping sound almost, but more…breathy. Like someone was sobbing.

Remus led me to a tapestry, where the sound got louder. At first I thought it was just the tapestry; I mean, it _was _a tapesty of Gwendolyn the Grim. Not exactly a happy tapestry. But then Remus drew back the tapestry and revealed a small alcove. In that alcove, was Emily.

And she was crying.

It wasn't the same Emily that had left Gryffindor Tower looking so put together and beautiful, all excited for her date with Chuck. It was a rumpled, dishevelled Emily that looked positively heartbroken.

"Emily?" Remus asked softly.

She glanced up at him, her eyes red and puffy, and then looked at me.

"He ditched me, Lily. He never even showed up. And then when I went to go look for him, I found him. Snogging Dorothy Laverty!" she choked out.

"Oh, Em!" I am so sorry!" I exclaimed and embraced her, centuries old muck and all.

I had never felt more guilty in my entire life.

* * *

_Well, there's the end of that one! I have outlined, but not started the next chapter. So lets see where it takes us, shall we? _

_Again, reviews are marvy. I really do enjoy hearing what you people think. _

_Laters!_

_--NeverAPrefect_


	10. Chapter 9

_**Disclaimer: **Lackaday, I am not JKR. But thank you for the compliment of assuming so!_

_Hello again, lovies. Here is a new chapter. Blah. Sorry it took awile. Term has officially started, so it's back to plaid skirts and dark green jumpers. Goody. So that means not as much writing :. For a full update on my woes, see my profile. WHICH REMINDS ME- story unpdates are posted on my profile if you have questions. I usually post when I'll be posting another chapter, or explaining why nothing has been posted. (Holidays, me in trouble, brothers attack the computor, etc.) And now to business. Special bits of luuuurve to TeNnIsPlAyEr, Aly-Cat101, polkadotparade442, and e.jameson. Merci for the reviews. And no, dears, I do not taint my story with drugs. But thanks for calling me witty! That's never happened before. Except when my maths teacher told my mum that my "wit needs to be contained to the proper venue, i.e- not maths class." So now, without further ado, Chapter Nine: Chuck_

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**Chapter Nine: Chuck**

"Er, Emily? It's time to go to class," I said, tapping my friend's shoulder.

She wasn't paying attention. She was staring at Chuck Wilmington, who was sitting at the Hufflepuff table (yes, he was a Ravenclaw) with Dorothy Laverty on his lap, snogging for all England. He had one hand on the small of her back, pressing her closer to him than she was already, and one hand tangled in her banana-yellow hair. _She_ had her small hands up his shirt. It was only a matter of time before one of the professors spelled them apart.

I sighed. Emily had been like this (obsessing about Chuck and his new snog-mate) since he ditched her two weeks ago. It was getting a little ridiculous. Emily is a very sweet person, and is borderline incapable of holding a grudge, so conversations concerning Chuck go somewhat like this:

"Do you know what I saw today? Chuck and Dottie, snogging in the corridor outside Charms! I still can't believe that he's with her. I mean, nothing against Dottie, she's quite pretty, and must be a sweet girl, and nothing against Chuck, who's rather a dish, and also quite nice. Except that he ditched me, but really. We must forget about that, it does not good to dwell on the past…"

And so on.

It was ridiculous! If I were her, I'd personally have a go at him, and hex him into oblivion. Or, if I didn't want to, Black and Potter had both volunteered. (Yes, they knew all about Emily's date from hell. There are no secrets in Gryffindor Tower. You want to know what kind of pants Peter Pettigrew wears? I can tell you. Exactly when Lucy Spinnet first shagged her boyfriend and what happened when her big brother found out? I also know that. All sorts of disgusting details.) Of course, I had a hard time convincing Black and Potter that Emily would probably have cheerfully beaten them to death if they touched on hair on Chuck Wilmington's head. Black wanted to know what kind of tranquilizing potion we'd given her. Potter wanted to know if someone had Modified her memory. (_I_ wanted to know who Modified her memory). Because neither of the lads believed that Emily was honestly that good a person.

"Hmmm? Oh," Emily said, and rose gracefully from the bench, "Yeah, I suppose we should go."

Bridget and I exchanged a glance and followed Emily out of the hall. We both thought her saintly attitude was a bit unnatural. She _had_ cried for a while and wondered what was wrong with herself, but by the next day, Emily was her usual charming self, just as stick-up-the-bum-y about making our beds as usual. At first we were proud of her for not getting all weepy about it, but now we just thought it was a little more than a little odd.

The three of us walked out of the Great Hall and up to Transfiguration. Which had been another bee in my bonnet ever since McGonagall had assigned that bothersome little term project. Black and I had been studying together about once a week, but judged to the fact that it was Black, progress had been limited.

The Marauders walked in behind us, tittering away like a couple of mad tittering things as they took their seats. Potter and Black had been sitting behind Emily, Bridget, and I ever since that first day. Apparently those were our permanent seats. Otherwise I would have protested then and there.

About halfway through the lesson, I heard someone hissing my name.

Five galleons if you can guess who it was.

"Evans, I need to talk to you after class, alright?" Potter hissed in a stage-whisper.

"Whatever, Potter."

Professor McGonagall's eyes snapped over to Potter, "Mister Potter. Do you have something you'd like to share with the class?"

Potter threw her an attempt at a Sirius Black-like grin and ruffled his hair with one hand, "Cor, Professor, I have to use the loos."

Black sniggered and Peter gave a high-pitched giggle. Remus sighed. Professor McGonagall fixed Potter with a glare.

"Please hurry back, Mr. Potter," she said as Potter got up, "And Mr. Potter? Do try to not blow up a toilet again. Mr. Filch was not too pleased last time."

The laughter that erupted from not only the Marauders but the entire class was almost deafening. Black was laughed the loudest, practically crying with mirth. Potter swept a flowery bow, shot McGonagall an impish grin, winked at me, and left the room. If he really did need to use the loos, then I was a Crumple-Horned Snorkak.

After class, I had quite forgotten that Potter needed to talk to me and was halfway to Charms by the times he caught up to me.

"Merlin, Evans, I nearly had to sprint to catch up to you!" Potter said, coming to a skidding halt beside me.

"Sorry, Potter, I forgot you said you needed to talk," I apologised. Never let it be said that I was unforgiving. Even to Potter.

Potter rumpled his hair, something I noticed he did less and less lately, except when he was agitated or nervous, "Look, Evans, it's about patrol."

The tone in which he said this made me stiffen. It was a tone that had a long explanation attached to it, and a most likely a pleading request tacked on at the end.

Potter saw me stiffen, "I'm really sorry to have to do this, Evans, but I can't do patrol tomorrow night. See, it's a full moon and-"

He stopped abruptly, "And what, Potter?" I snapped back, "You have a moonlight date with the Giant Squid? Or did you recently take a fancy to Astronomy?"

Potter's hazel eyes flashed behind his glasses, "I said I was sorry, Evans, and you know that I wouldn't ask to be excused unless it was something really important. No need to get your knickers in a twist."

"Really, Potter?" I said, crossing my arms across my chest, "I think that I am perfectly certified to get my knickers in a twist, as you so eloquently put it. Because if memory serves me correctly, I seem to recall that you asked for the patrol the time before last off. And you know what else I recall? I gave to you! Because you said that as Quidditch Captain, you had to be there for Chaser tryouts! And because this was so important, you said that you wouldn't ask for another patrol off for a while!"

"Evans, I already apologised! What do you want me to do? Grovel? Because I'll gladly do that, if it means that you'll let me off!" Potter threw back at me. Merlin, he had gotten quite tall. (A fact I couldn't help but notice as he towered over me.)

My eyes narrowed, and I knew that they looked liked icy emeralds (Emily had once told me they did when I did this) and I threw my hands in the air, "You know what, Potter? Do whatever you damn well please. Skip out on patrol. Just find a replacement, because I will not get in trouble over your irresponsible arse."

I stalked away then. Whether or not I left him speechless, gaping agog after me, I guess I'll never know. I do know that not once during that Charms lesson did I feel my pigtail levitate, nor did I hear a certain Head Boy and his best mate try to get my attention.

That evening, Em and I were sitting in the Common Room, working on an essay for Herbology (I hated N.E.W.T year with a passion now) and Bridget was off to the Owlery to send a letter to Sean, when Potter came up to me. He didn't really look at me, just sort of glanced and me, but mostly looked over my shoulder to where his mates were sitting with some other students. For some reason, this irked me. Not that he was talking to me, but that he wasn't really paying any attention to me.

"Evans, I found a replacement for me tomorrow night. He'll meet you by the Charms classroom at ten," Potter said breezily and then walked off, without waiting for my reply.

"Who'd you get, Potter?" I called after him.

Too late. Potter completely ignored me and instead pulled a regular Sirius Black and began flirting with one of Alice Gordon's friends. What a filthy little git.

I glared after him and slammed my book shut, "Sorry, Em, I just can't concentrate."

And Emily, being the good-hearted soul she is, looked up at me, "Pick up you things, Lily."

I stuck my tongue out at her, grabbed my things and stormed up to the girls' dormitories. Stupid Emily and her obsessive neatness habits.

I was lying in my bed, glaring up at the canopy moodily when Emily and Bridget came it. They got ready for bed, got in bed, and started talking.

"So what did you write Sean about, Bridget?" Emily asked.

"Oh, just stuff. Said a bit about how term's beating me senseless with the work, and exams later this year. Did you know that muggles have big exams this year, too? So I said a bit about that. Told him a bit about you two, and asked how the weather in Galway was. Said it was chilly here, but not too bad," Bridget replied.

I smiled despite myself, "So you told Sean about Em and I?"

Bridget laughed, "Of course. You're me best mates. I said that Emily is a sweet-natured person with a bit of a perfectionist streak, and is _bewitchingly _pretty," we all laughed at the bad pun, "And I said that Lily is a very clever girl with a temper to match her hair, but quite the hopeless romantic at heart."

I couldn't believe my ears, "You said what?!"

I could practically hear Emily roll her eyes, "Well, Lily, you kind of are. You always want everyone to have their own happy ending. Except people you really don't like. Like Potter,"

I felt a little defensive, "No, it's not that I wish Potter the worst- even though I don't think that I could ever wish anything on Potter except that I hope he eventually finds someone as big-headed as he is and realizes how impossible people like that are- it's just that Potter really _irritates_ me."

"Like just now," Emily said.

"Yeah, kind of. He just does things like that. And it really bothers me."

"What'd he do now?" Bridget sighed groggily.

"Completely ignored her after she yelled at him earlier," Emily said sleepily.

"You know, Lily," Bridget said, halfway asleep by this point, "For someone who hates James Potter's guts and wants to hex him halfway to Mars, you sure do act like you fancy him sometimes."

"I…me…you…no….I do not!" I spluttered.

And with that, my mates fell asleep, leaving just me awake, glaring at the canopy until I could barely keep my eyes open.

I was outside the Charms classroom promptly at ten the next night, still seething. How dare Potter skip out on patrol again! Honestly, being Head Boy usually meant responsibility and such. Potter clearly lacked in this department. Otherwise he would realise that some things are more important than whatever it was he had planned for this full- moon night.

"Hey there, Lily," said a voice. I nearly leaped out of my skirt, I was so startled.

"Do you always pace like that?" asked that particularity familiar male voice.

A male voice with a Northern Ireland accent.

A male voice attached to a male person.

A particularly dishy male person.

A particularly dishy male Ravenclaw prefect/ Quidditch playing person.

Suddenly I wished that Potter hadn't skivved off. In fact, I wished that even _Black_ was here. And that is something that I never, in all eternity, thought that I would say.

"Chuck," I said through clenched teeth, "What are you doing here?"

He looked confused and ran his fingers through his golden hair. I was forcefully reminded of another lad who ran his fingers through his hair. Except that it was usually black hair, not golden. Chuck looked confused.

"Well, erm, James Potter said that he needed a replacement for tonight's patrol. And he said to meet you here," he gave a crooked smile that would have been incredibly yummy scrumboes if he hadn't ditched by best mate, "He said that our Head Girl would be very put out if I didn't show up."

I couldn't speak. Curse James Potter. Curse him into oblivion. He did this on purpose. Like I said, there are no secrets in Gryffindor Tower. Potter himself had offered to take a go on Chuck. He _knew_ what Chuck did to Emily. Chuck's very public displays of snogging with Dottie Laverty was living proof! Potter was keen on getting back at me, and somehow he knew exactly what would cause me to go off. Oh, James Potter might be a variety of really loathsome things, but right now, he was also well on his way to becoming a dead man.

I forced a grin, "Oh, right. Potter did tell me that. Well, then, let's get started."

Chuck smirked at me and we walked down the corridor, "So, Head Girl, where are we patrolling tonight?"

I swallowed, "The Astronomy Tower."

Unfortunately, I had been forced to put Potter and myself back on Astronomy Tower patrol because Professor McGonagall had found that last three of my prefect groups patrolling up there in very…compromising positions. (Potter had thought it would be hilarious to put the prefect couples on patrol in the Astronomy Tower and see what happened.) So now Potter and I, and the Slytherin prefects rotated on duty in the Astronomy Tower. This hadn't been a problem when Potter had been the one accompanying me. I could hit Potter and only be teased for it. I couldn't slap Chuck.

Chuck leered at me in a very suggestive way, "Well, then, Lily Evans, I suggest we make our way up there."

We walked upstairs in a rather uncomfortable silence. It was awkward. I found myself wishing that Potter had chosen a girl. Or someone I knew better. Or someone who hadn't been so cruel to my best mate.

There was no one in the Tower by the time we go up there. It wasn't really late enough yet. Speaking form experience, I knew that nothing really happened until about midnight. So that meant about an hour and a half before we could do anything.

Chuck looked around, "I am really glad I don't come up here on a regular basis. Imagine actually being caught while snogging…or more."

Yuck.

"I mean, I could really picture doing stuff with Dottie up here, but getting caught? Honestly, how awkward would that be?" Chuck said with a chuckle.

You know, for someone that I thought quite highly of less than a month ago, I now had to agree whole-heartedly with Black. Chuck was a filthy-minded toerag. I listened to his prattle on about how he would do things with Dottie up here until I could barely keep from retching.

"Do you tell all girls this, Wilmington?" I asked gruffly.

He looked at me in shock almost, "Some, yeah. I figured that I could tell you because we know each other well enough."

Did we really? Huh. Where was I when this was discovered?

I was so appalled that I couldn't even throw what he did to Emily back in his face. I could only stand there and hope that this horrendous night would soon be over.

Around midnight, about a half hour after Chuck had decided to switch topics to Quidditch, which I could actually listen without wanting to seal my ears shut, some people started making their way up to the Tower. We had to patrol the general area around the Astronomy Tower as well, so we didn't catch everyone on their way up, but we did catch them. Mostly just ten points from each person from their house, and detention if they were a prefect or Quidditch captain. Tonight it was just points taken off. I relaxed a little when Chuck finally put on the mantle of authority and spoke harshly to those we did catch. _This_ was who I thought Chuck Wilmington was. At one, our shift was officially over and teachers would take over patrol. We then made our way downstairs to go to bed, and were actually having a relatively pleasant conversation about the Transfiguration assignment and how hard it was coming along by the time we were at the corridor where we would go our separate ways. Chuck would go one way, towards the Ravenclaw dormitories, and I would go up to Gryffindor Tower.

Chuck turned to face me, "I had a good time, Lily. As good as patrol will get."

I gave a small smile, "Yeah, me too."

He looked at me hard and took a step closer. He reached his hand out and tucked a loose strand of my red hair behind my ear, "You know, Lily, you're quite pretty."

I didn't know the correct response to that, "Er, thanks. I think you're good-looking, too," I muttered.

His eyes shone, "I knew it. I knew you fancied me."

Whoa. What now? He knew I what? Er, NO. NO. No, I did not fancy him. Was he bloody deluded?

Chuck took another step closer to me and gently but firmly grabbed the back of my head and pulled me towards him, "I knew it."

"No, Chuck, stop. I don't fancy you. Please let go," I protested, "Please just let-"

I stopped talking as my lips became assaulted my Chuck's lips. It was disgusting. Like being kissed by a whelp. I pushed against him and tried hitting his shoulder. He didn't let go, only kissed me harder. I was so angry I felt my eyes fill with tears. I hit him harder.

"OI! ASSHOLE! GET YOUR BLOODY HANDS OFF HER!" yelled a voice from down the corridor.

Chuck was pulled off me suddenly and forcefully. I wiped my lips and spat.

"What the _bloody hell_ do you think you're doing, mate?! Couldn't you see she didn't like it?!" shouted Potter.

Where exactly he came from, I'll never know.

Chuck glared at him through cold blue eyes, "You know, I don't think this is any of your business, Potter."

"Yeah? Well that's where you're wrong. See, I don't exactly like it when people hurt my mates. And last I checked, Lily Evans is a friend of mine. And after what you did to a friend of hers, I'm actually shocked that you're still standing here in one piece," Potter spat back.

Chuck laughed derisively, "Lay off, mate. It was just a bit of fun. A laugh."

"I don't see her laughing, Wilmington. Now get your arse off to bed before I give you detention," Potter's eyes were harsh and angry. He looked inordinately mad.

"You can't do that, Potter," Chuck said, though his eyes showed that he was nervous.

"Actually, I can. I'm Head Boy, see," Potter threw back.

"Whatever, mate," Chuck glared and walked off, giving a rude gesture my direction.

Potter swore under his breath then looked at me anxiously, "Er, Evans, are you alright?"

I nodded, a short jerky movement.

Potter looked at me apprehensively, "I don't think so. You're crying, Lily."

It was only then that I realized my angry tears were now no longer just in my eyes, but running down my face in rivulets. I wiped them away angrily.

"H-h-h-he's s-s-such a b-b-b-bloody ar-arse!" I choked out.

Potter took a hesitant step toward me and patted my shoulder before hugging me.

I let him hold me.

I don't know why, except that I was not entirely myself I was so angry. Because as it had already been established, I loathe Potter. Maybe it was the trauma.

But I let him hold me. I tucked my arms to my chest and let Potter wrap his arms around me and hold me. And I cried into his chest, sobbing until my eyes were dry and then some. Oddly enough, I didn't mind Potter holding me. I didn't mind his hand rubbing my back softly, or him telling me that it was okay. I didn't mind hearing his heart beat, or hearing his voice vibrate in his chest. Until I regained control of my senses and gently pushed away, wiping my eyes.

He studied me apprehensively, "You alright?"

"Fine, thanks," I said, giving a final sniff, "Sorry about that."

He shrugged, "I didn't mind."

He eyes told me that he wasn't lying.

Suddenly it occurred to me that Potter wasn't even supposed to be here, "What are you doing here? I though you had somewhere you need to be."

He shifted from one foot to the other, and didn't meet my gaze, "It…was cut short. Should we go back to the dormitories?"

He was changing the subject. Oh well, "Yeah, let's head back."

We walked up a flight of stairs when Potter slapped his forehead, "Er, I dropped my… wand. I'm going to go back and get it."

I shrugged and he went back the way we came. I walked up to Gryffindor Tower, Potter not rejoining me at any point. I went into my dormitory and got into bed. Right before I fell asleep, something occurred to me.

That was the first time he called me Lily.

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_Well there you have it. Another chapter. And PLEASE REVIEW!! I really love those things. They brighten my day._

_Huggles,_

_--NeverAPrefect_


	11. Chapter 10

_**Disclaimer: **The standard I-am-weeping-because-I-am-not-JKR deal_

_Hello, chums and chumettes! Sorry it's been a while, but I had sadly been busy being busy. A wide variety of things have gone on since I last spoke to you from this portal of wonder (AKA my computer). School term had progressed nicely, I have gotten a record of 18 demerits already, thanks to the delightful prefects and teachers at school. That comes in third only to my brothers, the other two notorious family members. Jack congratulated me on officially upsetting Heamistress Lardarse within the first half hour of school. Marvy times. So anyhoo, huge huggles and love boxes to a variety of people: hpgurl3113, TeNnIsPlAyEr, RomancingHogwarts x3, Miss Starlett, autumnembers, grayscales, fictitious character, loverofbooks20, e.jameson (the marv), soumy, I Am An Animal (I never wrote back after you reply- so here: I am very glad you like it! Yayzers!) LilyHeartsMarauders, Xx.siriusly.lily.xX, and Artemis Cullen. I salute you all. So, without further ado, chapter 10. _

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**Chapter Ten:** **Quidditch**

Chuck Wilmington never made his way back into conversation again. I told Bridget what had happened on patrol, and we both agreed that for Emily's sanity (and ours) that we'd best not tell her. So we didn't.

Emily quickly regained possession of her former, charmingly stiff self. It was rather irksome, actually. Remus came up to me numerous times and pleaded with me to please try and get Emily out of his hair. Apparently she had gone back to obsessing over this Transfiguration project, and even to a student like Remus (who got top marks in almost everything) it was a little mad.

I had just watched Emily go off on Remus for not taking this project seriously enough when I decided to be very deviously plotful again. I would not tell Bridget, Merlin knew that she would be a little bothersome if we tried to set Emily up with a lad again. And I had learned my lesson, I tell you! I had indeed. Which was why I was going to be taking a much more…not-out-in-the-open approach to this round.

But I really did need to find her a boy.

She was getting bloody unbearable.

Maybe it wasn't just Emily, either. Maybe it was a little me. Because ever since_ that_ night, I kept having these annoying little thoughts. And they weren't about Chuck. These little thoughts would pop up in my brain, and sadly enough, they centred on _Potter_ of all people. Because I simply couldn't knock the memory of him holding me out of my head. And it was driving me loony. Positively loony. So what better way to clear your head of someone than find another someone for your best mate? Which was that thought that lead me to surreptitiously glance up the lads of Hogwarts once more.

"Lily? Lily? Lily!" Bridget shouted in my face at dinner, "What the bloody hell are you doing?"

Looking at boys, "Just making sure no one's breaking any rules."

Bridget raised her thin eyebrows.

"Leave her be, Bridget. Lily will be Lily," Emily said from behind a book entitled _From Man to Monkey: Transfiguring the Human Body_. As previously stated, she had taken this Transfiguration project a little too far.

I was about to give an (undoubtedly) saucy reply when someone interrupted our lovely conversation.

"Evans! Are you going to the match tomorrow?" Potter called down the table to me.

I rolled my eyes, "Potter, the entire school goes to the Quidditch matches."

He gave an impish smirk, "That doesn't answer my question."

"Potter, you are an annoying little berk."

"I am not!" Potter cried out indignantly.

I don't think he would have minded the insult in there if I hadn't affixed 'little' in front of it. Boys hate being called little. Makes them feel less manly. Pish tosh.

"Evans, unless I am much mistaken, you still didn't answer Prongs's question," Black drawled, waggling his eyebrows at me.

I shot him a glare, "Fine then," I turned my body to face Potter, "Yes, Potter, I will be at the match."

"Brilliant," Potter said with a grin and turned back to his boiled potatoes.

I shook my head and turned back to my own meal.

"You know, Lily, you have to give him credit for trying," Emily commented airily.

"I beg your pardon?" I knitted my eyebrows.

Emily rolled her eyes and set down her book, "Come off it, Lily. You know that Potter fancies you, and you've been turning him down for a good 5 years now. It really is quite wondrous that he didn't give up ages ago. So give him credit for at least _trying_ to get your attention."

Bridget was staring at Emily in askance. Finally! A friend who shared my opinion vis-à-vis this whole Potter thing. Apparently she too though Emily had gone mad.

Then she opened her big gob.

"Cor, Emily. You looked and sounded _just like_ Lily just then."

I smacked her upside the head. Emily beamed. A little third year dribbled soup down his front. (The whole "I look like a veela when smiling" sign would have come in handy just then)

"Thanks, Bridget. I've been practicing," Emily grinned.

Bridget laughed, "You should teach people how to do that. There'd be a whole queue down the corridor."

What wonderful mates I had.

….

The next day, Saturday, dawned sunny. But not one of those 'bloody hell, it's hot' sunny days. More like one of those 'Merlin, I thought sun meant _heat_' days. I woke up earlier than usual, thanks to a stream of cold sunlight flittering through the windows. I glared at the offending sunbeam and burrowed my head into my pillow. It was no use. I gave a muffled (muffled because of the pillow in my mouth) scream and held my head. But I sat up. One glance in the mirror that Bridget had hung told me that my hair was going to be utterly impossible. I shook my head and looked over at the clock. Yuck. Not even eight in the morning. Well, if I was up at the crack of dawn, then somebody else would be, too. I threw my pillow at Bridget.

What erupted was a stream of choice swear words punctuated by a, "Bloody hell, Lily. I am going to _murder_ you."

I gave her a brittle smile, "Good morning, sunshine."

Emily rolled over and sat up, "What in Merlin's name are we doing awake?"

Bridget glared at me, her blue eyes practically spitting sparks, "Ask Lily."

I laughed, "Greet the day, my ducks. Quidditch match today."

I received two lovingly tossed pillows to the face.

"Lily, the match doesn't start until ten. We could have slept another hour and been fine," Emily said, picking up a hairbrush, "And since when do you like Quidditch?"

I stuck my tongue out at her. What a dim question, "I don't like Quidditch. The stupid sunshine woke me."

Emily groaned and pulled the duvet over her head to the point that only a few blonde curls could be seen. I stealthily(ish) tiptoed over to Emily's bed. Bridget opened her mouth, but I cast her a very 'Say anything and die' look, so she shut her mouth and looked at me like I was a loon on loon pills (highly possible). I jumped on Emily and tickled.

"St-Stop! Li-Lily!" Emily choked out between fits of laughter, "I'm AWAKE!"

I neatly (again, that is a very loose interpretation of the word) leaped off her bed and opened my trunk, which was once again impeccably neat.

The three of us got dressed for the match. As it was a weekend, we didn't have to wear uniform, a fact which pleased Bridget to the point of fainting. Instead, we pulled on denim trousers and thick wool jumpers. Bridget had chosen a furry looking pink jumper that clashed horribly with her Gryffindor scarf and red and gold ribbons in her hair. Did she care? Quite the contrary. She said that I should stop fussing over her jumper and bugger off. I tried telling her that a more neutral colour (for example, I was wearing grey) would look better with her scarf, and would prevent people from confusing her with a poorly made Persian carpet. I received an enchanted sock in the mouth for that. My lovely mates.

Before Bridget could select any other article of clothing that might have me denying acquaintance with her, Emily and I hauled her off to the Great Hall, where most of the school was already eating breakfast. The Hufflepuff and Gryffindor Quidditch players were already in their robes, talking louder than everyone else out of nerves. Or, in Potter's case, _simply_ because he liked to hear himself talk.

The three of us (Emily, Bridget and I, I mean) sat down at the Gryffindor table next to some sixth year girls (whom I promptly told off for their inappropriate dress) and were enjoying wonderful bowls of porridge that were centaur-free when there was a thud across from us. I quickly glanced up just in time to see Black sweep his dark hair out of his inky eyes and help himself to a large helping of porridge.

"G'morning, Evans," he said cheerfully, "Ready for the match, are we?"

I smiled. I was in quite a good mood today, and not even Sirius Black could ruin it, "Yeah, I am. I need a day off of studying."

Black's spoon paused before it could enter his mouth and his eyes widened, "Lily Evans, not studying?"

"Black, even _normal_ people need days off. Just because you are not normal does not mean-"

"Who's not normal?" asked Potter as he ran his fingers through his untidy black hair and sat down. What is it with boys and their hair? It's not that amazing.

"Black here," Bridget supplied before I could.

"Ah, yes, but the very wise among us could have told you that seven years ago and saved you a whole lot of trouble," Potter said, ducking as Black attempted to cuff the back of his head.

"You know, Prongs, if you say that again, you can go and find yourself a new best mate," Black said, glaring (jokingly) at Potter.

"You've been saying that since first year," Potter said, dismissing him lightly.

Peter and Remus showed up a bit later, Peter with a very red nose and a box of tissues, and a rather peaky looking Remus. He hadn't looked well lately. He never did, before and after the full moon.

Remus slumped onto a seat and got himself some porridge, "You know, James, the Hufflepuff team already left. If you plan to make it down to the pitch with time to change before your big start-of-Quidditch speech, you'd best leave now."

Potter looked alarmed, pulled Peter's arm towards himself, took one look at the watch there and swore, "Oi! Team! Let's go!"

The Gryffindor Quidditch team then all got up and left, leaving a trail of delightfully quiet Gryffindor table behind them. Potter led his broomstick cronies off to the pitch, leaving my mates and me to eat our porridge in the wonderful quiet they left behind. A while later, Bridget stood up in a gust of puffy pink jumper and wild black curls and raised an eyebrow at us.

"Well, are you coming or not?" she asked impatiently.

Emily and I exchanged a look and got up to follow her. On our way out of the Great Hall, we caught up to Alice Gordon and Frank Longbottom.

"Hi, Alice!" Bridget greeted, "Hey, Frank!"

Alice and Frank turned to look at us. Alice smiled and Frank gave a wave. Personally, I thought that they were the best couple in all Hogwarts. But then again, I was a little biased. When they were in fourth year, I was the one who suggested to Frank that he take Alice to Hogsmeade. And look where it got them. Everyone swore they'd end up married one day. They would have wonderful children. Sigh.

The five of us walked to the Quidditch pitch together. It was so windy out that our matching gold-and-scarlet scarves were getting tangled. As was my hair. Most annoying. I had just brushed it, for the love of Merlin. Stupid wind.

We walked to where our fellow Gryffindors were sitting, an area of stands surrounded by a gold and scarlet haze, and filled with shouts of "Fly, fly Gryffindor!" Rather pointless, seeing how the match had yet to start. Bloody wanky first years. There was already one Hufflepuff first year who had fainted with excitement. The next one would be a Gryffindor, even though first years can't play Quidditch yet.

I turned to Emily and chatted with her while Bridget badgered Alice and Frank with details about their relationship. I pity Frank and Alice. I would never wish Bridget's badgering on anybody. Except Chuck Wilmington. Maybe.

I nearly jumped out of my knickers when Sirius Black's voice filled the pitch.

"Ahem. AHEM! Can everyone hear me? Brilliant," I glanced up to the teacher's box, where Black was sitting next to a tight-lipped Professor McGonagall, "Today's match pits the happy-as-sunshine Hufflepuff Badgers against the fierce Gryffindor Lions. Who, may I remind you, won the Cup last year, courtesy of my mate, James Potter and the deliciously attractive Caroline Bones. Who, may I add, looks lovely in the Gryffindor Quidditch robes-"

"BLACK!"

"Sorry, Professor. But you have to admit, it, she _does _look quite-"

"The match, Black. NOW!"

"Right you are, Professor McGonagall, ma'am, you worship," I rolled my eyes as I saw Black duck out of Professor McGonagall's way, "The match. Here come the teams; in the center of the pitch, captains Kevin Doyle and James Potter. Who is a brilliant player, captain, and quite the dish, though apparently a certain Miss Evans doesn't think so-"

"BLACK!"

"Sorry again, Professor. Here we go. And they're off! It's Potter with the quaffle…Potter still with the quaffle…now it's Ian Wood, so still Gryffindor. For those of you who don't know, Ian is Henry Wood's brother. Brilliant Quidditch family, the Woods…now back to Potter…he shoots. GOAL! TEN POINTS TO GRYFFINDOR!"

The match progressed so. I screamed every now and then, overcome with house pride (besides, it's good to set an example of house spirit for the younger students). Black got in trouble several more times, until Professor McGonagall threatened to take away the magical megaphone he had. What a toss pot. Black, I mean. Obviously not Professor McGonagall.

Hufflepuff only scored once before Gryffindor caught the Snitch. The goal was by Oliver Hensley, a seventh year. Not a prefect, but a great lad. He was also quite yummy to look at. Nothing on Chuck, but Chuck's personality made him even more unattractive than Potter and Black, whose personalities made them hideous, because they were also quite dishy…anyway. Oliver was tall, and thinner than Chuck, with dark brown curls and brown eyes. He had an easy, shy smile, and I often ran into him in the library. After Remus and I, he was the top student in Hogwarts. And he was really polite. He would be perfect for Emily, but some small part of me didn't want Emily to get Oliver.

Huh. No one said that I couldn't find a boyfriend for myself…

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_La dee da. There you are. I do hope you enjoy. I am now off to bed (relatively early, only 11pm!). So PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE review!! And I will see (or type. or whatever) you later!_

_--NeverAPrefect_


	12. Chapter 11

_**Disclaimer: **As per usual, I am not JKR. Though, beleive me, I wish I was._

_Hello, mates! Sorry it has been unbearably long since I have written. Over a month, I think. So sorry. But some dear old wanker way back in the olden days, when Henry was king and had about nine billion wives...some prat invented this thing called applying to university. And you know what. It's bloody awful. As all of my brother have done it already, they had no sympathy for me. So much so that the ones that go to uni close to home decided it'd be great fun to steal my uni stuff. I was none too please. Knickers in a twist and all. So, now that most of the uni stuff is done, as is my maths homework, here is a new chapter. Mais, mais thanks to greenricecakes, LilyHeartsMarauders, Artemis Cullen, RomancingHogwarts x3, tomatosoup88, blueholly, IHeartJamesPotter, I Am An Animal, sarches, bookworm2009, TeNnIs-PlAyEr, .stars41, and Zalina. Huggers too all. _

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**Chapter Eleven: Oliver**

For the next two weeks, I went out of my way (literally) to talk to Oliver. Soon it was just a given. He would wait ever so patiently for me after Defence Against the Dark Arts, and then we would walk to the library together. I would wait for him after Charms and then we would go to the Great Hall for lunch. People assumed we were going out.

It was bloody wonderful, yet also slightly unbearable at the same time.

Anytime I left the Gryffindor Common Room, Emily would give a little grin and Bridget would smirk suggestively, then when I came back, Bridget would want a detailed description of whatever I had done. Even if it was talk to Professor McGonagall about Head duties.

Speaking of Head duties, and the unwelcome partner that came with those, one of the best things about almost dating Oliver Hensley was that Potter left me alone. Mostly. He still teased me a little during class, but it was different somehow. He left Black to do most of the teasing, cutting in only every now and then with some really naff comment.

It confused me. Potter, I mean. Not that I minded being left almost alone, it was quite refreshing when compared to the last seven years of Potter never giving me a moment's peace. What in Merlin's name was his issue? He would look at me from across the Common Room, or in class. Not that this was unusual, but it was the way he looked at me. Angry, and, when I looked close enough, something else I couldn't identify.

Whatever.

I had better things to do.

Yes, that was it.

THEN WHY IN THE NAME OF ALL THINGS MAGICAL DID IT BOTHER ME SO MUCH THAT POTTER WAS UPSET?!

Really.

It was getting beyond ridiculous.

I actually felt kind of guilty when Potter looked at me like that. As if I had done something awful, and _should _feel terrible. I felt like all I should do was go over to Potter, apologise most profusely and give him a hug.

I know.

I was going loopy.

St. Mungo's, here I come.

.......

"Black! Black…you bloody wanker…WAIT!" I called down the corridor after Defence Against the Dark Arts.

"Did you say something, Evans?" Black asked, turning around and smirking.

Toerag.

"Yes, Black, thank you for deigning to answer me," I sniffed.

"Thanks for what now?"

"Never mind," I grumbled. I was not in the mood to give a vocabulary lesson, no matter how much it might benefit Black.

Black raised an eyebrow, "What then, Evans?"

"Look, not to be a badgering weed or anything, but we really should work on our Transfiguration project. McGonagall said that it was the only thing that would connect terms, and that it's due right after the break, and well…" I said, trailing off for emphasis.

Black rolled his eyes.

I felt the urge to punch him.

"Evans, we just worked on it two nights ago. We spent so much time in the library last weekend that I nearly Stunned myself. We are _fine_," Black said, gripping me by the shoulders and shaking me.

"Lily?" called a voice hesitantly from down the hall. I turned, knowing exactly who that would be.

"Coming, Oliver. Just a moment," I called back to him with a grin.

Oliver smiled at me and tugged on his hair (what _is it _with lads and their blasted hair?!). He was really quite perfect for me, if I don't say so myself. He was nice, quiet, and studious. Otherwise known as the polar opposite of all things Potter. And he was a gentleman. He held doors for me, and once helped me into my cloak. The only thing that bothered me was that anytime I tried to…you know, get him to come onto me or something…he would get a funny look on his face and act all awkward and slide away from me. Annoying, really, but kind of cute.

Black glanced up at Oliver and snorted.

I glared up at him, "Yes, can I help you, Black?"

"You don't really like him, do you, Evans?" Black asked, almost patronizingly.

"What? Of course I do, you idiot!" I snapped back.

Black sighed and pushed his hair out of his eyes angrily, "Evans, I know I may be a little biased, but I really wish you wouldn't."

"You know, Black, there's a little bit of irony in _you _of all people advising on romance," I sneered.

Black's eyes flashed and hardened, "Evans, I know I come off an arrogant prick, but I'm not a bad guy. I thought that after all these years, you might also come off it and realize that James isn't just joking around when he says he likes you. He really does, Evans. Just give him a chance."

I stared at him like he was loony. Which he was, "Black. I understand that Potter probably put you up to this, but lay off, okay? Yes, I really do like Oliver, so do me a favour? Please stop."

I meant to come off commandeering and snooty. But somehow I came off begging, almost as if I was trying to convince myself of something as much as Black.

He just shook his head, "Evans, you really don't get it. For someone so smart, you really can be quite dim."

I stared after him as he whirled around and sauntered down the corridor. If he and Emily ever got together, they would make the most graceful (not to mention easily the best looking) couple in the whole of Hogwarts.

I walked to the opposite end of the corridor to catch up with Oliver, but while I tried to pay attention to what he had to say, a significant portion of my brain was thinking about what Black said. And whether or not he had been serious. And if I just…never mind. What was I saying?! This was Sirius Black. He was seldom serious, and rarely, if ever, right about these things. (I mean, he once told- in perfect honesty- Bridget to go out with Bobby Guarnere. Who was twelve. And fat.) I stalked off down the corridor to catch up with Oliver. He smiled at me and I smiled back, glad that Oliver was not even a little bit like a certain Head Boy I knew.

I was on my way back from the Great Hall that evening when I heard a most interesting conversation. I had just rounded a corner (the last corner on my way back to the dormitories, as it were) when I heard two very familiar voices and saw equally familiar people.

Potter and Black were walking toward the Fat Lady, coming from the opposite direction I was. (What exactly they were doing coming that way was beyond my brains). Potter was talking, and sounding very angry, and Black was being Black and laughing.

"…It's not funny, Sirius! It's bloody unbearable!" Potter snapped.

"Relax, sweetheart. I'm not laughing at your misery, pumpkin," Black sniggered. What a nutter, "I just think there is something ridiculously hilarious about the fact that Evans- who has never had a real boyfriend- is after _Oliver Hensley._"

And what was so bad with Oliver?

Potter ran a hand through his hair, "I don't. I think it's absolutely wanky."

"But admit it, James. You are a little biased," Black pointed out. Huh. Maybe he's smarter than his hair would make him seem.

"Then again, I think Evans has had a funny turn if she really does like Oliver Hensley," Black continued. So he's an idiot after all.

Potter glared at him through his glasses, even I could see that from where I was standing/hiding, "I...I…but…it…I…" Potter started, then looked down, "Yeah, you're right. I just…I don't know, mate. It seems like I've loved her forever, you know? Maybe I should just…stop."

I had never heard Potter struggle for words before. Ever.

Black gave a bark of laughter, "Prongs, there's a better chance of Peter becoming the Muggle Prime Minister than _that_ ever happening."

They had reached the portrait hole by that time, leaving me standing behind a tapestry, completely and utterly confused.

.......

"Hiya, Evans."

I looked up from my book, _Wizarding and Animagi: Evolution in Reverse, _"What do you want, Potter?"

Potter sneered, "Just to wish you a good morning. And wondering where that prat boyfriend of your's is."

He looked around the Great Hall, fluttering his lashes like a loon, "Oh, Ollie? Ollie, _darling_, wherefore art thou Ollie?"

I slammed my book shut, "Shut your gob, Potter. Just because I have finally found someone who treats me right- like a person and not an object- does _not_ give you the right to be a stupid prig."

His hazel eyes flashed, "Yeah, Evans? You think _Ollie_ respects you? Really, are you blind, Evans?"

"What in Merlin's name are you going on about, Potter?"

"You want to know the _real _reason why Hensley never snogs you, or holds you hand? Because it's not that he respects you space, Evans. No bloke in his right mind respects a girls space. It's because he's _taken._ Taken, Evans. As in has a girlfriend already!" Potter said, hurtling each word at me.

I felt tears prick my eyes. Potter's words had found his mark, "Potter, you're just jealous! You can't stand the fact that I could possibly be happy with someone other than _you!_ Well, I have news for you: you are the last person I would ever date!"

I was crying by now, stupid hot tears streaming down my face. I probably looked like a Yorkshire pudding. I stormed out of the Great Hall, but not before I had seen Potter's face. He looked shocked that he had made me cry, and then hurt.

Served him right, the monkey spanker. He'd hurt me first.

.......

No matter how hard I tried, I couldn't get Potter's words out of my head. As much as I'd like to think that they were just meant to hurt me, some little teensy part of me seemed to think that they were true. And that little part just kept getting louder.

All through Herbology, I was completely wrapped up in my own thoughts. I didn't hear Emily at all, until she practically yelled at me to watch what I was doing otherwise the Snapping Violet would bite off my finger. I thought of a way to prove Potter wrong. I would make Oliver kiss me. It was fool proof. If he kissed me, he obviously wasn't with anybody. He was too honourable to cheat on someone.

So after supper, I asked Oliver if he'd like to go to the Library to study. He said yes, so we met there a half hour later. We studied in almost absolute silence for two hours, occasionally smiling at each other. It was very peaceful. I had decided to make him kiss me goodnight as he walked me back to the Gryffindor Common Room. Not that he knew where it was, that was against the rules. But he always said goodnight to me at the suit of armour at the end of the Transfiguration corridor.

We walked down the corridor and had come to the suit of armour, and I turned to make him snog me.

"Well, I'll see you tomorrow, Lily," Oliver said.

Mwah ha ha. We'll see, "Oh," I said.

He looked at me. I took two steps closer to him and looked up. If a human being could get any closer, I'd like to see it. Wait. No, I wouldn't.

"Isn't there anything else you want to do, Oliver?" I whispered in what I'd like to imagine was a sexy voice.

His eyes got really wide and his breath got shallow. I was standing so close, I could hear his heart speed up. I tilted my head up and leaned in. Then, ever so gently, (I thought, at least) I kissed him.

He shoved me away.

"Erm, I have to go," he said as he spun and ran down the hall.

My eyes filled with tears again, but I would not cry. There was still the possibility that Potter could be wrong. I stood there for a moment, contemplating what to do. I realized I had left my Potions book in the Library, so went back to get it. I had my tears under control now, and hoped that my eyes weren't red.

When I got back to the Library, I dashed back to where we had been studying. Luckily, my book was still there. I grabbed it and started back through the Library, past the Magical Creatures section, then the Magical Plants section. I was almost to the door when I ran into somebody.

"Oh, sorry!" squeaked a voice.

"That's alright. I should have been watching were I was going," I said with a brittle smile to the person I ran into.

Little Genevieve Compton smiled and said, "Don't worry, Lily. My friends always say that I'm simply in the wrong place at the wrong time. Not your fault."

Genevieve started to walk away. Suddenly, and idea struck me. Genny was in Hufflepuff, like Oliver. She was also a seventh year. And the Hufflepuffs were known for all being great friends…

"Hey, Genny?" I called after her.

She turned around, her long strawberry hair whirling as she did, "Yeah?"

"Can you tell me something?"

"Sure," she said, walking back towards me.

"Does Oliver Hensley have a girlfriend?" I asked quietly.

"Oh," Genny's face dropped and she looked at me pityingly, like she didn't have the heart to tell me something.

My stomach dropped.

"Lily, I'm really sorry…but, yeah, he does," Genny looked at me sadly, "I know you like him and all, but he does. Her name is Dominique de L'Encrais. She lives in France, and goes to Beauxbatons. He met her holiday last when he went to the French Riviera with his family."

I just started at her. My mouth opened, but no words came out.

Genny looked heartbroken herself, "Lily, I'm truly sorry. I thought he'd have told you."

"Yeah," I breathed. I couldn't do much else.

Finally, my face seemed to regain the ability to move. Genny was still looking at me forlornly. I gave a small smile, "Thanks, Genny. Sorry to trouble you."

I walked away, feeling numb. About halfway to the Fat Lady, the bloody stupid tears started to come again. This time, I was so pathetic that I didn't stop them. I mumbled the password and flew through the Common Room, ignoring the stares.

When I got to my bed, I cried into my pillow.

"I hate him," I sobbed.

I wasn't even sure who.

Potter, because he was such a bloody wanker and was always right, especially when I didn't want him to be. And Hensley, for being such a stupid bastard and lying to me. Well, not lying, but leading me on.

Curse boys.

I hate him.

* * *

_Alrightie, chums and chumettes! C'est fini! Well, this chapt at least. So review, SVP, and I will love you forever_

_Laters!_

_--NeverAPrefect_


	13. Chapter 12

_**Disclaimer: **No, I do not own a castle in Perthshire, no, I am not a billionaire, no, I have never met the queen. I am not JKR. Sorry!_

_Hello, all! It is I! You dear delusional mate of the writing persuasion! Writing from the portal of wonder that is my computer. As the weather today was unbeleivibly pooey, I finished this entire chapter. I don't really feel like proofreading, so sorry if there are some errors. But guess what?! It is finally the foliday season! Term is up next week! I am going to London to go shopping for chrimboli tomorrow! I don't know why! I can shop just fine here. But i can see my dear brother in London, and not here. Anyway. Tottenham held my dear Manchester United, of which I am rather disappointed. They are 6 points behind Liverpool and 4 behind Chelsea. Damn. Here are my thank yous and continue to review! Artemis Cullen, paddynprongsie, I Am An Animal, RomancingHogwartsx3, cookiedoughYUM, TeNnIs-PlAyEr, and all the ususal!_

* * *

**Chapter Twelve: Quidditch and a Row**

When the boy you think you like and so kiss avoids you in the corridors like a leper, it makes things very easy where ignoring him is concerned. Oliver Hensley and I rarely saw each other, now that we were both resolutely avoiding each other. (I might have mentioned this, but we really had to go _out_ of our ways to see each other.)

The evenings were quiet again. I studied with Emily and Bridget, who had shut up vis-à-vis the whole Hensley thing when it became very apparent that I didn't want to talk about it. They were nice about the whole thing, and Emily encouraged me in my newfound loathing of the male gender. The two of us would gripe about all things male when Bridget was out of earshot. She didn't take so kindly to us insulting the sex of her boyfriend.

"Evans, could we take a rest? We've written most of our essay now," Black complained as we worked on our term project one evening.

"Six more inches, Black," I said without looking up.

"Why, how shocking to find you two here. And what are we up to?"

"Go away, Potter."

Potter plopped down on the couch next to me and snatched the book I was reading away. Ever since things with Hensley had ended so icily, Potter was in much better spirits.

"Evans, do you _ever_ take a break?" Potter asked, grinning.

I glared up at him, "You know I do, Potter. There are these marv little things called 'week-ends'. They are built in to give you a break."

"Clever, Evans," Potter threw his arm around me, "But you could actually take a break on the week-days. The professors are mad and all, but they don't want to kill us by working us too hard. There are easier ways to kill people."

"Do tell," I muttered.

"Evans, as Head Boy, Quidditch Captain, and Marauder Extraordinaire, I command you to come to the Quidditch match on Saturday," Potter's eyes shone with mischief, "And to not study the rest of the day."

I whipped my head up, "I will do no such thing."

"I told you so, mate," Black chuckled as he lounged back in his chair, "By the way, I thought we decided that _I _was the Marauder Extraordinaire."

"No, Padfoot, you're the Marauder Dim-aire."

"That's Peter, you idiot."

"Oh, right," Potter laughed, "You were the Marauder Incriminaire."

I rolled my eyes, "There's no such word, Potter."

"Correction: there _wasn't _such a word. There is now," Potter said, "And besides, Evans, was I talking to you? I don't talk to people who can't have fun."

I glared at him and his stupid messy hair, "I _do_ know how to have fun, Potter. I just refuse to give up a day of studying. That's irresponsible."

"Evans, a little irresponsibility won't kill you," Black said, laughing, "Trust us. We make our livings by being irresponsible."

"I've noticed," I remarked dryly.

"Evans, I _dare_ you to go to the Quidditch match and not study all day," Potter said, quirking an eyebrow in challenge.

Oh, now that's just mean.

Cruel and unusual punishment.

You see, there was a reason the Sorting Hat didn't put me in Ravenclaw, though it thought about it. It's because of this. I can't back down from a dare. Something in me just won't let me. It's impossible for me. And Potter knew this. He took advantage of it to disastrous proportions in third year. (A situation involving the Lake, a dark night, running, Gryffindor girls, and no clothing. I'll spare you the details.)

My eyes narrowed. Potter's grin widened, "Fine, Potter. I'll go to the match and not study. But Merlin help me, if you dare me to do this again, I _will_ hex you in your sleep. And if I were you, I wouldn't want to wake up the following morning."

I slammed my book shut and scrambled to my feet with as much dignity as possible and stomped upstairs, trying to ignore the gleeful laughter behind me.

………….

I was in a delightful mood the day of the Quidditch match. Bloody delightful.

About as delightful as an irritated Hungarian horntail.

It was bloody freezing as Bridget, Emily and I made out way down to the pitch. We had charmed ourselves inside, so that some of the heat from the castle remained in our clothes. It didn't help. The wind whipped through us, and the drizzling rain stung. I didn't envy the Quidditch players.

"It's f-f-f-freezing!" Bridget squealed. She looked like a puffball she was wearing so many layers.

Emily didn't say anything, just pulled her cloak tighter around her parka-d shoulders. Her lips were blue, and her nose was pink. She looked frozen stiff.

Even though it was about -11 degrees, and the wind made it even colder, the entire school turned out for the match. Reason? It was the Gryffindor-Slytherin match. No matter how cold you are, no matter how frozen you will become, you _will _watch the match, lest you be cursed to oblivion. (I had personally seen the Slytherin captain, Evan Rosier, nearly strangle a first year for neglecting to come to the match. Before I gave Rosier detention, that is) I can only compare this ridiculous devotion to muggle football matches. Completely primeval sometimes.

"Do we really have to walk all the way up?" Emily moaned, surprisingly in control of her voice. Its didn't shake at all.

Bridget answered, "Y-y-yes. W-w-we always sit up t-t-top."

The three of us lumbered up to our usual spots in the stands, about halfway to the top. (Not, as Miss O'Leary said, the top. Merely halfway)

The wind in the stands was even worse than it was down on the pitch. Emily glared at me. She personally would have loved to skip the Quidditch match, loving heat and sleep more than sport as she did. She blamed me for getting her dragged into this mess, claiming that had I not been such a prat, we could have been warm. I smirked and pulled a jar out from underneath my cloak. Emily immediately looked happier.

"_Lacarum enflamari," _I muttered with a little swish of my wand. Bluebell flames sparked and grew inside the jar. I passed the jar to Emily, and she and Bridget huddled around the little heater.

"Hello? Hello? Is this working?" boomed a voice.

Sirius Black commentated _all_ the Quidditch matches, remember?

"Wonderful!" Black's magnified voice rumbled through the air, "_GOOD MORNING, HOGWARTS!_"

Shouts of protest at the volume rang out in the stands. I covered my ears and glared up at the teachers' box, where I could see Black.

"Black, VOLUME!" screeched Professor McGonagall.

"Right-o. Sorry, Professor, your worship, ma'am."

As much as I despised Black and thought he was about as mature as a flobberworm, I had to grudgingly admit that he was funny.

"I wish he'd stop purposely agitating Professor McGonagall," muttered a voice behind me.

I turned around and smiled. An exhausted looking Remus was sitting behind Em, Bridget and I. Peter was stumbling into the row, trying not to spill two (contraband) butterbeers.

"Hey, Lily," Remus said with a smile.

"Are you making sure I don't back out of my dare?" I raised an eyebrow at Remus.

He smiled guiltily, "Sorry. But I don't think that Sirius or James particularly trust you to not study."

"I was dared, Remus," I sighed, "And you know my aversion to backing out of a dare just as well as Potter does. Besides, even I never miss Quidditch matches."

"That's what I told them," piped in Peter, "But they just told me to go…be quiet."

Peter blushed a stopped talking. Remus glared at him.

"Oh, look, here they all come!" Emily said. She was in a much better mood now that she was warmer.

"And now, Ladies and Germs, here come the players!" Black's voice rang out, "The Slytherin team: Rosier, Gibbon, Little Lestrange, Rookwood, Wilkes, Travers, and Baby Black!"

The Slytherins streaked out onto the pitch, the tail end being an uncoordinated pudgy boy with dark hair.

"Oh, yes, there he is! Ickle Reggiekins! On the special little broom that Mummy Dearest bought him- and that's a fact, trust me," Black said. He was none too fond of his brother.

Rabastan Lestrange stopped and glared up at the teachers' box, "Go on, now, Lestrange, nothing to see," Black said dryly.

Sirius Black was a notorious hater of all things Slytherin. He and Potter would go out of the ways to hex them. I maintained that this incessant practice was the only way that Black perfected his Furnunculus Hex.

"And here they come, the Gryffindor Quidditch team, lead by the fabulously spectacular James Potter! Potter, McKinnon, Meadows, Prewett, Jennings, Wood, and Baxter!"

The Gryffindors flew out onto the pitch and took their positions. Potter was in the centre, ready to shake hands (or break hands, depending on how you look at it) with Evan Rosier. Potter was flanked by Marlene McKinnon and Dorcas Meadows, a Beater and Chaser, and the only girls on the team. (And very nice girls- they were sixth years with uncommon good sense when it came to the Marauders). Rosier was flanked by Malum Gibbons and Ferreus Wilkes.

Madam Hooch commanded them to shake hands, which they did. I swear I could hear bones crack. She then blew her whistle and the players took off. Emily, Bridget and I started cheering along with every one else.

Gryffindor was up, 40 to 10, when Potter started showing off, like the wanker he was. After he scored another goal, he flew around the pitch and blew me a kiss.

"What is he _doing?!_" I spluttered.

"Erm, isn't it obvious?" Bridget replied.

I glared at her. Emily wasn't being very helpful in my defence, she was staring shiny-eyed at the match. (She claimed she hated Quidditch. What a wet little liar.)

Black continued his litany of rude comments about the Slytherins, and McGonagall only infrequently stopped him.

"Oh, look! Has little Reggie-didums spotted something shiny? He'd best go tell Mummy!"

"Graceful, I suppose. If you're a greasy-haired Lestrange like he is."

"_Most_ of us know that in order to win a Quidditch match, flying in a straight line would help. Apparently nobody told Travers that."

Whatever possessed Black to be particularly impish had also possessed Potter. Every time he scored, which was quite frequent (the Slytherin Keeper was _terrible_) he would either wave at me, blow me a kiss, or smile and wink.

"Is he bloody delusional?!" I finally said after Potter scored anther ten points.

"He _is _trying, you know," Remus said from behind me, "You're a very difficult person to get attention from. He's been trying for years."

Trying and failing miserably.

"You'd think he'd take a hint! I've been resolutely ignoring him for years," I replied, exasperated.

Remus chuckled, "But since when is James known for being practical? Especially when it comes to things he wants."

By the end of the match, I was fuming. Gryffindor won, Andrew Baxter having finally caught the Snitch. Em, Bridget and I made our way out of the pitch and back up to the castle, with me leading, positively bristling with anger and irritation. We were almost past the pitch when a voice called my name. Or rather, my surname.

"Oi! Evans!"

I turned around and glared, "What do you want, Potter?"

"There's a Hogsmeade weekend coming up. Go with me?" Potter called cheekily.

And I had thought we were past all this, "In your dreams, Potter!"

"So that's a yes then?" he called after my retreating back.

"Definitely a _NO!"_ I screamed, not even bothering to turn around again.

"Mental, that one. I'd never turn down James Potter," muttered a Hufflepuff as she walked by.

I glared at her back. Of course she would. If she were me.

………….

Gryffindors are notorious for throwing celebration parties when a Quidditch match is won. Especially if said match is against a certain house with a serpent argent as their banner.

There was nothing I could (or would) do to prevent such a celebration. I really would rather not have had the Marauder's bring butterbeer (Merlin knows where they got it), but whatever. By this point, I had cooled down enough to attend the fête in the Common Room. Emily and Bridget were already down there when I came down, and they smiled at me.

"Good, you came," Emily said, "You need to stop getting so worked up about Potter."

I rolled my eyes, "Sorry we can't all be as calm as you, Miss Cummings."

She smiled, "Have a butterbeer."

I took the drink from her hand and sipped. Everyone in the whole house was in the Common Room. First years were huddled in a corner, watching in awe as the Quidditch team, still in their Quidditch robes, celebrated in the middle of the room. The Marauders had put on quite the dandy little show. Remus (no doubt) had enchanted the lion rampant of Gryffindor to eat the serpent argent of Slytherin. That would take a substantial amount of clean up, what with all the fabric that was now in shreds. And who would be cleaning that up? Me. Potter and Black were regaling all with tales of the match.

As if we all weren't there.

"Hey, Lily!" called a voice.

I looked around. Marlene McKinnon was waving to me, her blonde hair still sticking up from the match. Dorcas Meadows was in little better condition, a cut on her cheek and her dark hair in elf knots.

"Good match, you two!" I called back with a grin.

"Uh-oh," Bridget murmured from my side.

Oh giddy gods trousers, what now?

"So Evans, you didn't study all day?" asked Black, coming up to me.

"Yes, Black. I didn't study all day. Are you satisfied?" I said him as he tossed his hair out of his eyes.

"I'm not the person you should ask," he drawled, "Ask James. Enjoying yourself, Emily?"

Emily rolled her velvet brown eyes, "I was. You ruined it."

Black gave a strained smile, "Sorry about that. I'll try harder."

Emily gave a patronizing grin. Black sneered and left.

I sighed, "As much as it pains me to say this, Emily, I wish you and Black would at least try to get on a little better."

Emily looked at me like I had just sprouted a second head, "Pigs may fly."

"I wouldn't say that to Lily, Em. She'll just make pigs fly," Bridget commented lightly.

True.

"Evans? Is that you? Decided to mingle with us mere mortals this fair evening?"

I rolled my eyes, "Potter, go Stun yourself."

"Thanks, I'm good," he said. He was in full Quidditch- prat mode. There was no talking to him like this. It would be like talking to Narcissus in the flesh.

I looked at Potter with disgust, "Go away, Potter. I was having such a pleasant evening."

Emily snorted.

Okay, so that was a little hypocritical of me.

"I'm going to go get some more butterbeer. Come with me, Em?" Bridget said, glancing from Potter to me and back. I think she knew what was coming, even if I didn't. Divination was never my strong suit.

My _wonderful_ mates left me to glower at Potter alone.

Potter leaned against the chair, trying to imitate Black's insolent good looks as he attempted to flip his hair back. He smirked condescendingly at me.

I felt the urge to hex him.

"So, Evans, I asked you to Hogsmeade today. You said no," Potter commented.

"Excellent progress, Potter. Next week we'll have you try to state something less obvious," I replied, my voice thick with sarcasm.

Potter sneered. Really, I was _this close_ to hexing him, "I decided that you must have been joking, so I'll give you another chance," he straightened, "Lily Evans, will you go to Hogsmeade with me?"

I looked at him with open disdain, "Why hell no, James Potter, I will not."

Suddenly he looked angry, "Why not?"

I stared. He was loopy, "Because, you arrogant toad, I would never go out with someone as condescending and egotistical as you are being right now!"

"But you'll go out with a cheating, lying, moronic tosser?" Potter's eyes flashed, "Oh, yeah, I can _really_ see the intelligence behind _that_."

"You're not being fair, Potter. At least Hensley had the good sense to treat me like a lady!" I was furious now, and could feel my cheeks getting hot with anger.

"Sure, because all _ladies_ deserve to be lied to!" Potter shouted, "And Evans, if you're a lady, then I'm a chicken!"

"Fine, Potter! Be a damned chicken then! Certainly you're the furthest thing from a _gentleman!"_ I screamed back at him.

Most of the Common Room was watching our row, "At least I don't pretend to be a gentleman! I know I'm not! At least I don't act like I'm some stick-up-the-bum snot who's too good for everyone around her!"

Potter's words stung. It was as if they were physical things, whipping my face, "James Potter, you are the last person I would ever go out with. This row just proves it!" I hissed.

Then I whirled around and stormed up the stairs to the girls' dormitories, hot tears blurring my vision. Every time I talked to Potter now, we ended up arguing.

I was halfway up the stairs when Emily came rushing up behind me. She put her arm around my waist and helped me up the stairs. I hadn't realized I was crying that hard until Em gave me her handkerchief. We were almost to the top when I heard Bridget's voice come up from the Common Room.

"James, that is the _last_ way to treat a girl. You are a complete arse. Maybe if you fell of that bloody broom of yours, your head would deflate bit. Don't you _ever_ talk to my best mate like that again," Bridget's Irish brogue was low and dangerous, and I knew that her eyes must look like ice.

I heard that patter of footsteps on the stairs, and then Bridget was at my other side, opening the door to the dormitories.

"Mate, that was one of the _dimmest_ things you have _ever_ done," Sirius Black said.

That was the last thing I heard before Bridget slammed the door.

* * *

_Auf weidersehn! Have a loverly rest of the evening! Or day, depending on the continent on which you reside. REVIEW, svp!!!_

_~NeverAPrefect_


	14. Chapter 13

_**Disclaimer: **Although I may be a genius, I sadly did not create Harry Potter_

_Bonjour, chums! I had a tummy lurgy today, so stayed home from that darling institution otherwise known as secondary school. When I wasn't retching up my guts, I was typing this, because I luuuurrrve you all that much. Also because I had nothing else to do. (It is ridiculously boring being the only child left in your house because all your brothers are in university) And oh, goodness! I HAVE NEW READERS!!!! YAY!!! So here are my thank yous this time, and I will (hopefully) have a new chappie out soon! TeNnIs-PlAyEr_, _S.Z. Scribbler, RomancingHogwartsx3, Blonde K, ilovepotter79, jessicats, Caroline Turpentine, jp'slover4life (personally, i'm more of a Sirius Black kind of girl), and anyone whom I forgot!_

_Oh, and this chapter is a little different. I'm sorry, but I needed someone to be a certain way, so had to write that as part of the plot. Tell me if you like it or if it made you retch. _

* * *

**Chapter Thirteen: Emily**

The week that followed Potter's and my row was truly bizarre. Bridget's mum had sent her _two owls_ with letters from Sean, which occupied her for hours. The bizarre part came when she got this mad idea to share her letters with Emily. Why, I had no idea. But I was soon 'treated' to the product of what turned out to be a _very_ devious plan. And one that I was truly scared by.

"I'm all for you being an independent woman and standing on your own, but honestly, Lily, this is _ridiculous_!" Bridget exclaimed as we got dressed on Halloween, (a week after my row with Potter.)

Emily sighed as she fastened her hair with two enchanted pumpkin clips, "Lily, I've got agree with Bridget.'

I stared at her, "Em, you were the one who encouraged me in my beliefs that boys are pigs."

"True," she said, unfazed, "But _men_ aren't."

What?! What potion did she drink?!

"Are you insinuating that _Potter _is a _man?_!" I asked.

Emily grinned, "Have you seen him with his shirt off recently?"

!!!!!! (Words cannot express my feelings adequately at this point)

"Have _you?_" Bridget asked suspiciously.

Emily just grinned.

…er…

WHAT HAPPENED HERE?!

DID THE EARTH JUST TILT ON ITS AXIS?!

Am I DYING?!

Because under normal circumstances, Emily Jane Cummings, femme-fatale-but-man-hater, would never say anything like this! Her mother is a huge believer in the feminism movement! You know, I-can-be-a-strong-woman-while-not-having-a-man-to-fulfill-my-sexual-desires? That sort of thing.

"Just forgive him, Lily. He's looked so pathetic recently," Emily said, "I think you could cheer him up."

I was bright red with both anger and embarrassment, not to mention that I was temporarily speechless by this new side of Emily.

"Emily, when did you get like this?" I sputtered.

Emily smiled, "Bridget talked me around."

I glared at my little Irish friend. She smiled and waggled her fingers at me. Is this what she had planned? Why she shared her letters with Emily?

"Come on, you two. I need some breakfast, even though it may just cause me to retch," I grumbled.

Though I would never admit it while sane, the thought of Potter with his shirt off didn't make me want to retch exactly. Quite the opposite. But Emily and Bridget didn't need to know that.

I fumed down to the Great Hall, Emily and Bridget snickering behind me. When exactly Bridget had talked to Emily about boys, or what she said to make Emily suddenly change her mind (or more importantly, _who_ had made Emily change her mind…did she really see Potter without a shirt?) was completely beyond me.

I sat down at the Gryffindor table and spread jam on my toast with a vengeance.

"Sheesh, Evans, what'd the toast ever do to you?" Black asked, sitting down across from me.

I glared up at Black and his insolent good looks. Emily sniggered, "The toast didn't do anything to her, Black. I just startled her this morning."

Black's ink-coloured eyes widened slightly and he pushed his hair out of his face. This may have been the first time in years that Emily spoke civilly to him, "What in Merlin's name could you have possibly said to get Evans flustered?"

Bridget cackled, "None of your business, Sirius. But I daresay you'll find out."

Potter, Peter, and Remus came up and sat down next to Black. Potter looked at me hesitantly.

"You alright, Evans?" he asked, tentatively.

"Fan-bloody-tastic, Potter," I retorted.

Potter smiled, a little smugly. I internally kicked myself. So much for ignoring Potter out of anger.

Remus looked from Black, who was looking very confused, to Emily and Bridget, who were looking smug, to me, who was looking like she wanted to tell the world to piss off.

"Did we miss something?" he asked.

"Nothing of importance," sang Emily.

Potter, Peter, Remus, and Black stared at her. She winked.

Wait.

She did WHAT?

I groaned and started to bang my head on the table.

"Oh," Remus said, "I think I understand.'

"Did someone give Emily a personality change? Or is this secretly not Emily, but someone who drank Polyjuice Potion?" Potter asked, his hazel eyes wide.

Emily scoffed, "Really, James, be more creative."

Black shook his head, as if he was clearing it, "Nope, that's still Emily."

"Evans," Potter said, "Stop hitting your head, you'll just hurt yourself."

I sighed. Potter was right, sadly enough. I straightened. Emily was still my mate, even if she had a severe change of attitude in the past week.

"I'm going to go to Arithmancy now," I muttered, "See you two loons later,"

Emily and Bridget said good-bye and I walked away.

"Evans! Oi, Evans!"

I slowly turned around. It was still early, and I already had enough, "Yes, Potter?"

He smiled, "Really, what happened to Emily?"

I shook my head, "From as best as I can figure, while I was fuming about our row, Bridget got a heap of letters from her Irish boy, and shared them with Emily because she was tired of Emily being all stick-up-the-bum about boys. But you'll have to ask them. I don't really know."

At the mention of our row, Potter blushed, "Yeah, about that…I've been meaning to…well, you…I…it…"

I smiled at him. Why did boys have to be so adorable when they were flustered? "Spit it out, Potter."

He sighed and ran a hand through his hair, "Yeah, I guess you're right."

"I usually am."

Potter grinned and blushed some more, "Look, Evans, I'm really sorry about the things I said after the match. That was very rude of me," he looked up at the ceiling (there was nothing but the ceiling, I checked) as if for inspiration, "And I'm sorry for being an arrogant git."

I blinked.

Twice.

Potter never apologised. He usually just started talking to me again, and we would never mention our rows again.

"Erm, well, I…I forgive you, Potter," I said, shocked. I didn't really know what else to say.

The grin that lit up his face was huge. It spread from ear to ear, and made him look about three years old.

"Good, then. Thanks, I mean," he continued to smile.

I smiled up at him. What? His happiness was catching. We walked through the corridor to Arithmancy together, Potter back to his old self. Well, not completely. He wasn't as much of a tetchy little berk, and his mood was more buoyant. I refused to think that this was because of me. Emily was wrong. She had to be.

Because if she was right, what would happen?

……………………….

Now that Potter and I were back on speaking terms, Black decided that it meant that he could be just as annoying as Potter usually was. Something I did not take very kindly to.

My three friends and I were sitting near the fire, chatting, when the Marauders came through the portrait hole. Potter spotted me and made a beeline us, his mates all following.

"Hey, sexys," Black said, and flopped into an armchair.

"Hey, hottie," Bridget replied nonchalantly.

"Don't push your luck," muttered Emily as Black looked at her expectantly.

He barked a laugh. Potter sat down on the couch across from me, Remus sat down at the other end. Peter hovered, not really a part of the conversation.

Before any of us could say anything else, there was a commotion at the other end of the Common Room. Some particularly dim first years were practicing spells that a fourth year had 'taught' them. The result? A rather loud bang.

I wearily stood up and started over. Merlin, first years could be thick.

"And where do you think you're going, Evans?" asked Black as he grabbed my wrist.

I rolled my eyes (clichéd, yes), "To go fight dragons. Where does it look like I'm going, Black?"

A mischievous light flashed in Black's eyes, "Well, Evans, if I didn't know better, _I'd_ say it look like you're staying right here, enjoying some lovely company."

And with that he pulled me onto his lap. And didn't let go.

I raised an eyebrow at him. What in the name of Merlin's pants did he think he was doing? He just gave me a small smirk and a look that said 'go with it'. I smirked back. Fine. I could go with it. Whatever this elusive 'it' was.

I giggled, playing my part (?), "Apparently you're right, Black."

I could feel Emily staring at me. And Bridget, for that matter.

"I tend to be right sometimes, Evans. You just aren't around for most of them," Black winked at me. I had no idea what we were doing, but whatever it was, it was at the very least entertaining. (What? Sirius Black was a _ludicrously_ attractive boy)

I giggled again and turned slightly in Black's lap to face Bridget. I winked. She gave a nod and a (somewhat) understanding smile. When Emily opened her mouth, Bridget pinched her and muttered something in her ear. Emily grinned and winked at me.

"Erm, mate?" said Potter, "You can put Evans down now."

"What if I don't want to?" Black said innocently.

I looked at Potter. He didn't look very pleased at the situation. Ahhh…now I got 'it'. Maybe.

"What if I don't want him to, Potter?" I teased.

Potter blushed and frowned.

"I think that looks really comfortable, Lil," Emily said cheekily and she stood up. She walked over to Remus and sat on his lap, "Oh, look at that. I was right!"

Remus blushed but didn't say anything. I felt like sending Emily to St. Mungo's. This was _really _unusual for her

"I have a question," Black said, flicking his dark hair out of his eyes, "How come Peter and Remus get to be called by their first names and James and I are called by our surnames?"

I shrugged and made a show of snuggling closer to Black. He grinned at me and winked again, "I don't know, Black. I guess for the same reason I get called 'Evans'. A term of endearment, I suppose."

I glanced at Potter, who looked rather annoyed to say the least. Then I had a very wicked idea. Mwah ha ha. I leaned in and gave Black a little kiss on the cheek. Potter's jaw tightened.

Black laughed, "You know, I don't think I like this seating arrangement anymore."

Before I could see what he was going to do, he stood up, me still in his arms, and then dropped me on Potter's lap.

My hands flattened out against Potter's chest, and he looked down at me, startled. His face was about three inches away from mine. Suddenly, I burned wherever I was touching Potter (which was pretty much everywhere). My cheeks flamed, and my heart sped up. Potter blushed, too, and I felt his heart skip a beat and his breathing quicken. I abruptly didn't know what to do, or what to say. The last time I felt this…bothered…was when Potter took my course schedule and pulled me towards him. I did the only thing I could. I reached up and brushed his hair out of his eyes.

"I can't see your eyes, Potter," I meant that to come out carefree, but it came out breathless. This part of Black's plan I did not expect. Otherwise, I would have objected liberally.

Potter's eyes locked on mine. I felt my heart race even faster. I noticed, for the first time, that his eyes weren't a standard hazel. They had flecks of gold, amber, and on the very edges, a thin ring of darkest blue. I was completely unaware of anything else that might have been happening.

Remus's voice interrupted my dazed thoughts. He took his cue from Black and stood up, pushing Emily off his lap, "Well, I'm bloody _exhausted_. What do you lot say to bed?"

Black made a show of stretching and yawning, "Me too, Moony. I could sleep for ages I'm so tired."

Peter squeaked. Odd reaction.

Black caught my eye and winked broadly, "Evans, you're preventing my best mate from getting up."

I blushed crimson. Again. Potter cleared his throat awkwardly and gently set me down on the couch next to him, "Er, g'night, Evans."

"G'night, Potter," I murmured. I was concentrating on getting my heart rate back to normal.

The Marauders made there way across the Common Room. I called after them (I could breathe now), "Oh, Potter, don't forget, we have Head patrol tomorrow evening."

Black and Potter whipped around at the same time, "Tomorrow's the full moon," Black said.

Remus paled. My eyes narrowed, "Very good, Black. You're wearing a grey jumper."

Peter looked at me in askance, "What does Sirius's jumper have to do with anything?"

"Well, we're exchanging mindless drivel, aren't we?" Bridget said, eyeing the Marauders.

"Er, sure," Remus said, "Come on, lads, we have to get to bed."

They hurried out. I watched them go. Huh. This was not the first time that's happened.

As soon as they left, Emily and Bridget pounced on me.

"That was wonderful!" Bridget squealed.

"Potter got you all hot and bothered, Lily! You fancy James Potter!" Emily hooted with laughter.

"What?!" I exclaimed, blushing to the roots of my hair, "I do not! He just startled me, is all!"

Bridget looked at me with a raised eyebrow, "And Sirius Black looks like a hag's backside."

Emily looked delighted with my refusal, though. At least I have one good mate.

There'd be no living with them after this.

……………………………………

The next day after classes, I went to the library to do my Charms homework. We had to look up the history behind various charms that we'd be studying in order to prepare for N.E.W.T.s better, so I needed to look up information on Cheering Charms, the Patronus Charm, the Bubblehead charm, and the _Cave Inimicum _spell. Not to mention that Remus had suggested a good book on Animagi at lunch that I wanted to look over for Transfiguration.

I was up there for hours, finally coming down for supper. The day before, Halloween, had been shockingly uneventful as far as trouble-making went. The school enjoyed the feast, and no mischief had been caused. I had been quite thrilled.

However, like all good things, this too must come to an end.

I spotted Em and Bridget and made my way over to where they were sitting at the Gryffindor table. I had just sat down, and was grabbing some Yorkshire pudding when there was a loud _BANG!_

"Oh, dear," Emily muttered, looking up at the enchanted ceiling, "I think they're up to it again…"

I glanced up at the ceiling and groaned. There was a large cauldron-shaped cloud (at least I _think_ it was a cloud) floating up to the ceiling with a loud _CRACK!_ it started spewing green sludge over its sides. As soon as this happened, the entire school started shrieking and darted under their respective House tables. Right when I thought the sludge was going to hit where I had been sitting, there came a very different noise. Instead of the _squish_ I had been waiting for, it was more of a plink noise. I looked up from under the table. Chocolate Frogs?

Yes, apparently. Chocolate Frogs were raining down on Hogwarts. Not in their wrappers, mind you, but hopping along, gay as you please. We all got out from under the House table and sat back down. Some people looked dumbfounded, as if thinking 'Who could have done this?' They were counted among the truly lard-brained.

As I sat down at my spot on the bench, watching the Chocolate Frogs bounce along the Gryffindor table, someone sat down beside me.

"Brilliant, eh, Evans?" Potter muttered in my ear.

"Oh, yeah, bloody brilliant," snapped Emily, who was now again sitting across from me, "I have a Chocolate Frog in my _hair_."

Black laughed as he sat down on the other side of me, "Come on, Cummings. You know chocolate is a good look for you."

"Oh, _good_," Remus said, satisfied as he sat down next to Potter, "It worked."

The Marauders looked back up at the ceiling. There were words forming out of the sludge now.

"From…your…friendly…neighbourhood…troublemakers…Messrs Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot, and Prongs!" Bridget read as she fished through her massive dark curls and pulled out Frogs.

I glared at Potter, "Do you really think that _no one_ has noticed your nicknames?"

"Do you really think _anyone_ cares?" Potter smirked, pointing to the head table. Professor Dumbledore was picking up and Chocolate Frog and eating it. When he realised we were looking at him, he gave a smile and wink to Potter. I gasped.

"_Relax,_ Evans," Black sighed, "We made these Vanishable. Prongs said we should, now that he has to clean them up."

Well, at least they were that considerate.

Once everyone had filed out of the Hall, the few remaining Prefects (which consisted of only 5 people) came up to me. Potter had left, saying he had better things to do.

Git.

"All right, you lot, I've been informed that these…_treats_…left to us are Vanishable," I addressed the Prefects, "So…_Evanesco!"_

Most of the Chocolate Frogs near me Vanished. I grinned. Thank Merlin for that small blessing.

For the next ten minutes or so, the Prefects and I walked around the Great Hall, Vanishing Chocolate Frogs. We decided to leave a few, as a reminder of our devilishly entertaining Marauders (not my idea- that would be Clementine Abbott's. She fancied Potter.)

I walked upstairs to Gryffindor Tower, exhausted. And guess what? I had bloody Head Patrol tonight!

How jammy was I?

_Very._

I would have willingly gone under the Cruciatus Curse if it meant I could sleep right now.

Emily and Bridget were in our dormitory, Emily reading a book for Transfiguration (change comes in small doses) and Bridget was writing the next great British novel to Sean.

"How does this sound? _I miss you so much, especially at night, when I'm going to bed, all by myself," _Bridget read, chewing on the end of her quill.

"Suggestive," I said.

"That's her whole point. Little whore," Emily laughed.

Bridget stuck her tongue out like a two year old. I grinned.

"I have Head Patrol tonight. So s'later," I grumbled as I turned to walk back out.

"Oh, have fun," Emily said dismissively. Bridget gave a quick wave.

What good mates have I.

I walked out to the Common Room and sat in a chair by the fireplace, waiting for Potter. I was staring moodily at the fire when Emily came down and sat down in the chair next to me.

"Hullo, Em," I muttered.

She giggled, "Hey, Lils," she sounded nervous.

I raised an eyebrow at her, "What's going on?"

She looked down and started wringing her robes, "Look, I know that I've been a little different lately…" No, really? "…and I guess you're wondering why."

Actually, I was, "Go on."

Emily looked at me and then back at her hands, her perfect cheeks blushing pink, "I told Bridget, but I didn't want to tell you, because I was afraid of how you'd react…"

What in the name of all things magical was going on? Did Emily have a split personality?

"But I need to tell you, because I need you to do me a favour."

"Alright…" I said warily.

Emily blushed darker, "Don't laugh, okay? The thing is…I _think_, no, scratch that, I _do_…"

"What, Emily?" I asked. If I waited for her to say it without prompting, we would have been there ages.

"I fancy James," the words tumbled out of her mouth.

"James…_Potter?!"_ I shrieked.

"Shh!" Emily was bright red now, "I know you don't like him, Lily, but I do, and so, I was hoping you could possibly tell him that? Not in an obvious way, of course."

What, were we back in third year? Why couldn't she just tell him? Why did I have to be involved at all? Better question: why did I feel like someone just clouted me in the stomach?  
"Er," I muttered.

"Great!" Emily said, lighting up, "You're a marvy mate, Lily!"

She gave me a hug and gracefully tripped up the stairs.

I was shocked. But it was more than that. I felt like crying, and was really hurt. But _why_? I didn't fancy Potter, Potter fancied _me_. But now I felt so hurt, like Emily had hexed me. I couldn't breathe properly, and tears stung my eyes.

"Oh Ehhhhh-vans?" sang a terrible voice.

I looked up, "What do you want, Black?"

Black was standing in front of me, pushing his hair elegantly out of his eyes, "So my mate, James,"

My stomach clenched and I felt like crying again.

"Wishes for me to tell you that, unfortunately, he can't go on patrol tonight. He doesn't feel too good. Thinks he might have eaten too much chocolate," Black winked a long-lashed eye.

Now those bloody tears were gone. Yep. Now I was bloody _furious._

"You can't be serious," I said through clenched teeth.

Black's eyes lit up, "Why, yes, Evans, I am. Sirius Black, nice to meet you."

I glared at his too-perfect face, "Piss off, Black."

Black gave a wicked grin and did just that.

Why did I have to be partnered with such an irresponsible Head Boy? Why didn't Dumbledore make someone else Head Boy? Was he trying to have a laugh? Was Potter trying to make me go bonkers _before_ N.E.W.T.s?

I was going to bloody _murder_ him.

I stood up and surveyed the Common Room. Alice and Frank were on duty tonight, and I was not about to take the fifth year Prefects out tonight. They were two of the people I had caught in the Astronomy Tower one night. Very few other people I trusted enough to come on patrol with me.

"Marlene!" I shouted. She turned her head, away from the group of sixth years she was sitting with.

"Yeah?" she called back.

I walked over to her and smiled, "Can I ask you a favour?"

Marlene McKinnon smiled back at me and stood up, "Sure."

"Potter the Blockhead has decided to get a tummy lurgy tonight, and we have patrol. Alice and Frank are already out on their patrols, and I am _not_ taking a fifth year with me. Can you come on patrol with me?"

Marlene smirked, "Love to. We get to give out detentions, right?"

I matched her wicked grin, "Of course."

* * *

_So there it is. Another chap. Let me know if you liked this one, since is rather different._

_xoxoxo-_

_--NeverAPrefect_


	15. Chapter 14

_**Disclaimer: **No, still not JKR_

_You lot are amazing! Look at all the people I get to thank! (No, not now. They're at the end of this little ramble, as always.) I'm sorry this hasn't been up sooner, it was supposed to be up Boxing Day, but my family was all home (all 12 of us. Including my brother's new fiancee! Yay! She's really nice.) and two of my brothers (the sme two that blew up the gnome) stole my computer, which has this on it. So I had to wait until they were out to steal it back. But no worries now, I have written! Oh, and happy christmas! I hope you got a good haul this year. Write you next year! haha. Well, yes. Here are my thank yous: nynnerpls, Michael4HPGW, Artermis Cullen, LilyHeartsMarauders, l., Sparkly and Shiny, Raizara Black, , Carola-x, She Who Must Be Insane, jessicats, sincerely MAR, colouringcrayons, Willing to Learn, S. Z. Scribbler, GroowyL, misstress black, cookiedoughYUM. You are all marv people. I luuurrve you. _

* * *

**Chapter Fourteen: Bugger**

Marlene followed me as I stormed out of the Common Room.

Did Potter _enjoy_ torturing me?

Was he really just that bloody irresponsible?

I thought nasty thoughts along this line until I remembered what Emily told me.

Right as I remembered, I felt like someone had shoved various Quidditch balls at me. My throat felt clogged, like there was a Snitch shoved down it; my stomach ached as if someone had just whacked a bludger at me, and to top it all off, I felt like I was going to cry.

And I didn't even know _why_.

So what if Emily fancied Potter? It wasn't as if _I_ bloody well cared. I certainly didn't fancy Potter. Emily could go right ahead and have him. But as I thought that, I felt angry. _Really_ angry.

Who was _Emily_ to fancy _Potter_?

He didn't fancy her. He fancied _me_, and had since about third year. Why did Emily suddenly fancy Potter? Why was she suddenly flirty and outgoing- the exact opposite of everything she believed in?

I wasn't about to believe that one conversation with Bridget had talked her round. Bridget could be convincing, when she was hexing you, but she wasn't _that _convincing.

"Erm, Lily? Are you alright?" Marlene interrupted my irritated thoughts.

"Absolutely spiffing," I growled.

"Liar," Marlene said.

I stopped and looked at her. She sighed and rolled her eyes, "What's going on, Lily? I don't think that this just has to do with James cutting patrol. He may be irritating, and not on the list of your favourite people, but your acting like he stole your first born or whatsit."

Poo and double poo.

Poo on toast.

Marlene was not as oblivious as most Quidditch players.

(Well, only one certain Quidditch player/ moronic toerag.)

I sighed and started walking down the corridor again, "I don't know why I'm so angry. But this isn't the first time Potter's skived off patrol. I think this was just the last straw before I snapped."

Right.

I think.

Marlene opened her mouth to say something, but then diverted her attention, "OY! You there! Behind the statue! Damn…_Rictusempra!"_

Two Hufflepuffs burst from behind the statue of Lachlan the Lanky, laughing uncontrollably.

"Not bad, Marlene. You'd make a fair prefect," I commented. Marlene shuddered.

"What do we do with them?" she asked, watching them laugh with indolent amusement.

"Ten points from Hufflepuff and-"

"Ooooh, ickle Hufflepuffies caught by the Head Girlie!" cackled a voice overhead.

"PEEVES!" I screamed, "Shut you gob!"

Like that would really make a difference. He just cackled some more.

Then, the little witch inside my brain shouted "_Lumos!"_

"Peeves, could you please escort these Hufflepuffs back to their Common Room? I know they'd _love _for you to lead the way," I said, sneering at the still laughing Hufflepuffs.

Just so they'd fully appreciate their punishment, I said the counter-curse.

Peeves whizzed down beside the Hufflepuffs (whom I didn't recognize) and blew a raspberry at them, "Shan't be proper about it, your Headship."

"Whatever. Now sod off!" Marlene said for me.

The Hufflepuffs didn't look pleased. At all.

As they walked down the corridor, Marlene whooped with mirth, "Ha! That was brilliant!"

"Do you know who they were?"

"One was Johnny Bones, Caroline's little brother. He's in fourth year and a Beater on their Quidditch team. The other looked like Tabitha Corrigan, but I'm not sure," Marlene said after she regained her breath.

I smiled.

I was happy for about one minute. Then I remembered the plagues in my life.

Marlene noticed.

"Seriously, Lily. What exactly is going on?" she asked softly.

Maybe it was the fact that she was asking so nicely, or maybe it was because I was so bloody mad about the whole shenanigans. Whatever the reason, I told Marlene everything. Starting with the row (which she knew about, obviously), through Emily's psychotic personality change, to Potter skiving patrol and Emily fancying the damn bloke.

Marlene laughed.

I know. I was shocked, too.

"Erm, are you off your rocker? I just told you the reason behind my terribly painful time and you're laughing at me?" I gaped at her.

"Lily," she gasped, and stopped laughing, "I want to try something, okay?"

I nodded, but still continued to survey the clearly mad girl through narrowed eyes.

"Take Emily out of the picture with James. Now put someone else in. Try several someones, actually. And girls, mind. Not Sirius. That would be ghastly," she shuddered, "Then tell me how you feel."

I did as she told me to. First I put in her (it seemed only appropriate, after all, she was the one who suggested it) then Dorcas, then Bridget, then Alice…until I was bloody seething with anger.

"And how do you feel?" Marlene asked lazily.

"Really pissed off," I muttered through clenched teeth.

Marlene laughed again.

Honestly, what was _wrong _with her? She was looking at a one-way Apparation to St. Mungo's.

I said so.

She laughed harder.

"Lily, I know you may be the cleverest witch in your year…which technically makes you the cleverest witch in the school besides the professors, but honestly. You are actually really not that clever about the obvious things," Marlene said and brushed her blonde curls out of her face.

Yeah, thanks. That clears _everything_ up.  
I probably looked like I had no idea what she was talking about. Because I DIDN'T HAVE A BLOODY CLUE WHAT SHE WAS TALKING ABOUT.

"Marlene, what in the name of Merlin's spectacles are you blabbering on about?"

Marlene stopped and composed herself. She had a very serious face. Then something caught my eye.

"That's five points from Slytherin, McNair," I sighed, "And I'll report you to Professor Slughorn if you don't go off to bed. I know he's been looking for someone to sort the frog spawn."

The burly fifth year scurried off. Well, 'waddled' is probably a more accurate verb.

Anyway.

I looked back to Marlene the Mad, "You were saying?"

Marlene sighed and put her hands on my shoulders, "Look, Lily, this may shock you but…you're absolute _rubbish_ with boys."

Thank you. I needed that.

I glared at her, "You know, it's not entirely my fault. You can-"

But Marlene just shook her head, "Lily, I've known James since second year when I started playing Quidditch with him. And yeah, I know he can be a pompous twit sometimes, but he's a good person."

Great, Potter had gotten to Marlene, too.

"And I'm not just trying to piss you off when I say he really does like you. Not in that typical adolescent-boy-he-just-want-into-your-knickers way. But in the he-may-just-actually-be-in-love-with-you way," Marlene sighed again and took her hands off my shoulders, "Not many blokes can chase after the same girl for _years_, be constantly rejected, and _still_ chase her. And Lily? I hate to be the one to tell you this- it's usually the job of the best mate- but, Lily? I think you just may fancy James Potter."

Okay...

WHAT?!

WHAT POTION WAS SLIPPED IN HER PUMPKIN JUICE?!

"Marlene, I think you've taken one too many bludgers to the head," I said through gritted teeth.

She was not the first person who had told me this. Bridget had mentioned this and Emily had agreed back at the beginning of the year.

Marlene cocked an eyebrow, "Really? Because when _I _really fancy a bloke, I get jealous of every girl who fancies him, and who he fancies; I get really irritable, to the point where Dorcas wants to Stun me; and I tease or argue with the boy non-stop. Think about it, Lily. Like I said, James isn't a bad person. And he's grown up a_ lot_ in the past year or so. I think we may have you to thank."

Me? Why would anyone be thanking me about Potter's behaviour?

Well, I had told him that he needed to grow up, and that I would never date a bloke who what that immature and crude. And that he needed to become more responsible.

And Potter _was_ actually sort of sweet. In a bizarre, Potter-y way. Not to mention the fact that he _was_ rather dishy, with that adorable little way he frowned when he was puzzled, or the way his eyes flashed with mischief whenever he was about to do something really funny. Incredibly annoying, but really funny. And the way that he had absolutely_ no _inhibitions. (Case in point- he and Black serenading each other in the Common Room in sixth year. Or their display in Transfiguration. Or their uncanny ability to make up ridiculous little songs while interpretive dancing down the corridors. All of which they'd done.)

Yeah, Potter irritated me; and yeah, I was hard on him. But that was just because-

Merlin on a splintered broomstick.

Marlene was actually right.

We were headed back to Gryffindor Tower now. We had been walking in silence for a while, thoughts whirling in my brain.

I couldn't tell Potter that _Emily_ fancied him. Because that would be wrong.

Because _I_ fancied Potter.

ARGH!!!!

Bloody hell.

"Marlene," I began in a stunned voice, "I think you're right."

Marlene skidded to a halt outside the Fat Lady, "About James?"

"Yeah," I said in a very small voice. I was still in shock.

Marlene whooped in a very Black-like manner. Then she all but wet herself with glee, "You know what we have to do now?"

"We?"

"Yes, _we_, you prat. I was the one who showed you the truth of your feelings and whatsit, I will be there when you finally make sense of everything and snog James to within an inch of his life," Marlene rolled her eyes, "Though Bridget will probably want in."

Mmmm…snogging Potter…

?!

Where was this all coming from?!

"Wolfsbane," Marlene said to the Fat Lady.

"Right, indeed," the Fat Lady replied

(That was Potter's idea of a clever password. Though I think I saw where his inspiration came from. Remus hadn't thought it was very funny...)

Marlene had to practically drag me in, and then drag me up the stairs to the girls' dormitories.

"Bridget?" Marlene said, bursting into the dormitory I shared with Emily and Bridget.

Bridget was sitting on her bed, painting her toenails, "Marlene McKinnon?" Bridget looked at me, "What happened to _her?_"

Marlene giggled, "We- well Lily- has news for you. News of the most important nature. That we just figured out while I was doing James's patrol."

Bridget winced at what that sentence implied, "If this has anything to do with Lily wanting to turn James into a toadstool; that's not news, that's history."

Marlene laughed and shook her head so hard her curls hit me in the face, "No, Bridget. Lily would like to tell you…well, Lily? Tell your best mate now."

I looked up at Bridget's questioning blue eyes and turned crimson, "I…I think…I think I fancy Potter."

Bridget stared at me for a moment.

Then there was the sound of crashing glass and the next thing I knew, Bridget was hugging me.

"I knew it! I knew it! Haha! I knew it! So soon! This is great!" Bridget squealed.

"Er, Bridget?" I said, awkwardly patting her head.

"Can I plan your wedding?" she asked.

What the bloody hell? "No! But you just broke your nail polish all over Emily's trunk."

"Damn," Bridget said. Then her eyes brightened, she pulled out her wand and cleaned up the mess, "Now, to more important things: what to do about Lily and James."

I liked the way our names sounded together.

Eurgh. No, I didn't.

Yes, I did.

No, I didn't.

Bugger. I'm going mad.

Marlene plopped down on my bed, towing me with her, "My idea is that somehow we make him jealous. Because let's face it, James would never believe that she woke up and fancied him. Unless he slipped Amortentia in her pumpkin juice."

Highly possible.

Bridget shook her head, "I think you underestimate exactly how much he fancies her."

"Still, he wouldn't believe it."

"I think she's right, Bridget," I said, finally coming out of my daze. I shook my head to clear it. Which meant that I got strands of red hair in my mouth. Yuck.

Bridget looked thoughtful. I was worried. I became even more worried when her eyes lit up, "Yes! We'll make him jealous! But I also think that we'll need help. From one of his mates."

Marlene caught on, "From Sirius Black."

Oh, no.

Oh, no no no no no no.

I snorted, "When a third year can produce a true Patronus will I ask Sirius Black for help."

"No, you are going to ask him for help much sooner than that. You are going to ask him tomorrow," Bridget said.

"And you are going to ask him to help you…at Hogsmeade this weekend," Marlene said.

Damn, that's right. There was a Hogsmeade weekend this weekend.

"I can't ask Black. That would be weird. And a little mean. To Potter, I mean," I said. Whoa, convoluted sentence.

"Oho, my dearie. You _will_ ask," Bridget said, glaring at me warningly.

Just then someone came in. Emily, with wet hair. Obviously just in from a shower.

Bridget looked up at her, "Em! Guess what? Lily fancies James!"

The way Bridget said it was odd, as if she were talking to someone really stupid (which Emily isn't) or as if it were a line in a play that she had been rehearsing.

What was odder was Emily's reaction. At first her eyes lit, and she seemed ready to smile, but then she looked like she remembered something and looked angry.

"How could you, Lily? I just told you that _I_ fancied James!"

Bugger.

* * *

_And now, I am off to watch a very good show on the telly. Good night! And Review!_

_--NeverAPrefect_


	16. Chapter 15

_**Disclaimer: **No, not JKR. Sorry :[_

_OH. MY. GOD. _

_YOU LOT ARE AMAZING!!!! I have over 100 reviews! Do you know how much that makes me happy inside? It makes me so happy that I am up at 4:24 am putting this up (though I am also up because I couldn't fall back to sleep when I woke up 20 minutes ago.) This means that I will have to drink copious amounts of tea and coffee today, but oh well. Oh, and happy 2009! I think its so neat to think how much sooner the Australians were in 2009 than me...damn stupid Greenwich Mean-Time. We never do anything first. No, just joking., I really don't care. Guess what? I have snow here! YAY. Snow in Somerset and Gloucestershire...there's something amazing. Well, I luuuuuuurrrrve you all, and thank yous in little parcels to: xpipx, Bellatrix13, summersrain, Future Mrs. Fred Weasley, independent chick, Romancing Hogwarts x3, snevans78, ferra's girl, bassbrat, sadiesaid, FarmQueen, twihard-fanpire, Fey Holden, jp'slover4life, vampirebutterflyqueen, Artemis Cullen, l.e. enchanted, S.Z. Scribbler, bad-wolf-bay, Michael4HPGW, oceanlover14, cookiedoughYUM, HermioneGranger1971, LilyHeartsMarauders, nynnerpls, .stars41,and elle who I forgot last time- SORRY!_

* * *

**Chapter Fifteen: Talking **

It is truly disconcerting to come to the realization that you fancy someone you have staunchly detested for ages.

Even more disconcerting when the girl who figures this out (and makes you realise it- no mean feat) is a year younger than you.

Even _more _disconcerting when you best pallie-o has a most uncharacteristic ditherspaz when she finds out, claiming that 'she liked him first'.

Even MORE disconcerting when that person you fancy just happens to be:

JAMES BLOODY POTTER.

I mean, honestly. It was very bizarre- going from dislike to fancy in less that a day. I thought it was rather disgusting and very… naff of me to just start randomly rating James Potter. But then again, as Marlene pointed out, I might have fancied him for quite some time, just didn't recognise it. I was hoping that was it, because otherwise, I sounded unbearably pathetic. And I HATED sounding pathetic.

To top of the now very confusing sequence of events that my life had become, Emily was ignoring me. Most of the time. Sometimes she would turn to talk to me, as if nothing were the matter, but then she would scowl- more to herself than me, it seemed- and throw a nasty look at Bridget, who would conveniently happen to be staring at the ceiling.

I was bloody confused.

Maybe Emily was acting, but it didn't seem like she was really mad at me. I had seen her mad, and this wasn't it. (When Emily was mad, and _really_ mad, things tended to explode. We once had to confiscate her wand once to stop her from turning Black into a beetle and squishing him. They didn't get on very well. Mostly).

"Hey, Lily," Marlene said, coming and sitting down next to Bridget and I at breakfast a few days after my epiphany of sorts. She was towing a very exhausted and particularly grumpy looking Dorcas along.

"Hi, Marlene," I muttered, buttering some toast. I still hadn't quite forgiven her for being the reason I now got nervous around sodding stupid Potter. Though, come to thing to it, I _had_ been blushing around Potter more…and then there were those bloody hormones that acted up when he touched me…

Bloody hell.

I hate life.

"So, Lily," Marlene began conversationally, "I believe we had an agreement?"

No, we didn't, "What?"

Marlene raised an eyebrow at me, "Concerning a certain Head Boy?"

Bridget sniggered. I raised my wand and suddenly she had blueberry jam all over her face. She scowled at me. I flashed her a grin.

"Thank you, _Sirius,_" she muttered.

I glared. What an insult!

"Dorcas, your hair is in my porridge," Marlene commented to her friend, who had fallen asleep on her plate, "Anyway, Lily. I think that you should talk to Sirius today, considering that tomorrow is Saturday…of our Hogsmeade weekend."

She gave me a very pointed look. I opened my mouth to say something foul when...

"Oh, sorry, Evans, didn't see you there."

And Sirius Black bumped me into Marlene. He flashed me a wicked grin as his mates all sat down near him. Potter, I was both pleased and not pleased to see, sat down across the table, next to Bridget.

"Of course, Black. Whatever you say," I grumbled.

His grey eyes glinted, "You're right, Evans! I've been telling James for _ages_ that I was easily the most handsome!"

Where in the name of Merlin did he get _that_ idea? I hadn't said that, "I didn't say that."

"But you said 'whatever you say' and _I_ say that," Black winked. I rolled my eyes.

Remus looked around. I noticed that he looked a little peaky. He always did around the full moon. I had a theory about that.

"Where's Emily?"

"Oh, haven't you noticed?" Marlene chirped, "She and Lily aren't speaking."

Remus looked at her, almost as if he didn't recognise her. But then again, Marlene wasn't among my close mates, so I supposed that was justified.

"Why?" Potter asked, hesitantly looking at me.

Right. We weren't getting along because of him cutting patrol.

Damn.

"Nothing to be concerned about," Bridget said, glaring at Marlene.

Marlene sighed at stood up, dragging Dorcas, who had blearily opened her eyes, "Well, then, tootle pip. Lily, you need to talk to someone today, don't forget."

I glared at her retreating back.

"What the in the name of Merlin's pants was that all about?" Black asked, picking up and eating my toast.

Did I say he could have it? No.

"Nothing," I sighed, "Bridget, we'd best be off to Transfiguration."

So Bridget and I got up. (Well, first I stole my toast back and ate it as I got up.) We walked to Transfiguration quietly.

"So, did you feel any different?" Bridget asked me.

"Well, if feeling like there were Cornish pixies in my stomach and that my face was turning red is different, then yes, I felt different."

She hit my over the head with her book.

"What the bloody hell was that for?" I snapped, rubbing my head.

"You idiot! You can't act any different! Then James will know that something is wrong! And that would be disastrous!" she exclaimed.

I frowned. I hadn't thought of that.

We walked in and sat down. Next to Emily. I had almost forgotten that she was in this class. But she didn't glare at me, or pointedly ignore me, like I assumed. She just acted very calm. Quieter than usual, but calm.

Throughout the entire class, I sincerely regretted sitting in front of Potter and Black. They charmed little bits of paper to fly at my head, something they had been doing since about fourth year. Finally I spun around.

"Potter! Do you have a death wish?" I glared at him, though it wasn't such a burning glare as usual. It was more teasing. Somehow, since I figured out that I fancied him, it just seemed wrong to yell at him.

Potter's eyes widened.

Damn, I wasn't supposed to be talking to him.

Oh well.

Then he smirked, if a bit triumphantly, "Evans, you should know by now that it's always Sirius."

Black looked affronted, "I resent that. It is _usually_ me, not _always_ me. Merlin, mate. That's the last time I include _you_ in any bit of fun."

"If you have any sense of self-preservation, Black, then you would kindly stop," I hissed.

He laughed at me. Git, "Evans, Evans, Evans…if I had any sense of self-preservation, I would have stopped tormenting my _dear_ cousin Bella ages ago. But I haven't. Therefore, it does you no good to even try."

And with that, he shot me a smirk, elegantly tossed his hair out of his eyes, and flicked his wand. Paper began flying back into my hair.

Bloody stupid git.

After class was over, Bridget cleared her throat rather loudly and looked pointedly at me.

I would play it stupid. Maybe.

"Yes, Miss O'Leary, can I help you?" I asked breezily.

She glared at me, "Go. Talk. To. Sirius. NOW."

Forceful little thing, isn't she? When she wants to be, that is.

Hmmm. I wondered if this was how she changed Emily's mind. If she had changed Emily's mind, rather than put her under the Imperius Curse.

"No," I said.

"_What_?!" Bridget hissed.

I rolled my eyes at her, "Not now, okay? I will after Charms. Before lunch. That way, er, Potter will have more of an excuse to be jealous?"

That came out as a question. It wasn't supposed to, I swear.

Bridget nodded approvingly, then walked off. She had been muttering about needing to use the loos all class. I sighed and walked off to Charms.

I spotted the Marauders walking down the corridor, laughing. Something about them was so…carefree. A quality I had never possessed. Even awkward Peter was more carefree than I was. I watched as Black and Potter started telling a story, gesturing grandly and punctuating everything with a laugh. Potter reached up and ruffled his hair. It was so…

Adorable.

What?! I had never thought that was adorable. Agitating, more like. Not adorable.

But really, it sort of was.

Eurgh. I was turning into some wet nancy. All dewy-eyed and love-obsessed. Eurgh.

I rounded a corner, thinking about Transfiguration, Potter, the project, Potter, Charms, Potter, socks, Potter...

"HELLO, EVANS!"

"MOTHER OF MERLIN!" I shrieked, dropping my books and clutching my heart, "Sirius Black, I will _personally_ see to it that you-"

"Stop there, Evans. I'd hate to _scourgify_ your mouth," Black grinned.

Potter was laughing so hard he was crying. He picked up my books and handed them to me, still laughing. Even Remus was laughing. Shaking with silent laughter, his tawny eyes shining. Peter was giggling like a girl. Nothing new there.

"Evans, it was just a bit of a laugh," Potter said, throwing an arm around my shoulders.

Where ever Potter's arm touched me, I tingled. A very pleasant tingle. I could feel all of his Quidditch-built muscles, and even _smell_ him. I had never realised how good he smelled. All lovely, like grass, and some sort of cologne, and summertime.

And a bit like Filibuster's bangers, but that's beside the point.

"Sure, Potter," I said, coming back to my senses, "A laugh."

I walked with the Marauders to Charms, where Professor Flitwick was almost bursting with glee. We were going to be working on Cheering Charms, and apparently Professor had already been trying them.

I threw my rucky down next to my desk and sat down before pulling out my wand. Potter and Black were sitting on the other side of Bridget, who had come bumbling in, muttering about Moaning Myrtle. (Why she had used those toilets, I had no idea)

As we practised the incantation (which we learned in third year) and the wand movements (also learned in third year), I found my mind straying to Potter.

The way his face scrunched when he was concentrating…

The way his eyes got wide when he was being mental with his mates…

Whether of not Emily had really seen him without a shirt…

What he looked like without a shirt…

I was a little appalled at myself, but try feeling appalled when you've been practising Cheering Charms.

After class, I was painfully reminded of my promise to talk to Black by a giggling Bridget. (Cheering Charms, remember?) So I reluctantly followed Black out, even though I was laughing like a loon.

"Black!" I shouted.

I was mad. It was official. I was taking Marlene and Bridget's advice.

Stupid Black wasn't responding.

"SIRIUS!" I screamed.

Black turned around, looking a little shocked. I don't think I had ever called him by his first name. Ever.

"Evans?" he looked at me apprehensively, "If this is about Transfiguration-"

"It's not," I cut him off. Then, despite the Cheering Charms, I felt nervous, "Can I, erm, talk to you for a moment?"

Black's inky eyes were suspicious, but he followed me to an alcove by a window.

"Look," I started. Merlin's pyjamas, this was hard, "I…erm…well, you see…"

"Out with it, Evans," Black grinned.

"Yes, well…" I took a deep breath, "You're right... Er, Sirius, I need your help."

He stared.

And then blinked.

I think the use of the first name was a bit much.

Then he laughed, "You, Lily Evans, need _my_ help? _And_ you called me 'Sirius'? Merlin, Evans, you must be bloody desperate."

Oh, believe me, I was.

This next part of was going to be supremely awkward.

"I know this is going to sound weird, but please do _not_ take this the wrong way- let me explain first. I, er, need you to come to Hogsmeade with me tomorrow. And I, er, need you to tell Potter," I was wringing my hands and not looking up.

Finally, I glanced up. Black was looking at me like I was mental.

Which, at this point, was highly possible.

"You need me to tell James that I am taking the girl he fancies to Hogsmeade? _Are you mad_?!" Black's eyes appraised me as if he was already booking my bed at St. Mungo's.

Yes, I think I was. Mad, I mean.

When I started talking again, I was rather annoyed that my voice had taken on a tone of pleading more befitting of a damsel in distress.

I _hated_ damsels in distress.

"I know. And yes, I may be mad, but I really need you to help me. Believe me, if I had it my way, I wouldn't be asking you at all, but Marlene and Bridget said I should, and what with Emily saying she fancies Potter now and all, and now this, and it's really all Marlene's fault to begin with, and well, you're his friend-"

"Whoa, Evans," Black held up his hands, halting me, "I didn't understand a single word you just said, but it sounds a bit like-" he stopped suddenly, then his eyes brightened and took on a gleeful, very impish, gleam, "Oh, _Evans. _This sounds like a plot to make someone jealous. Because you _fancy_ them."

I blushed scarlet.

Damn him.

Damn Sirius Black and his stupid intuition.

I don't think it was possible for anyone to get redder than I was now.

"Er…"

Black let out of whoop of laughter and gave a truly wicked grin, "This is fan-bloody-tastic. James will _piss_ himself with glee…_Finally_…"

And he continued to laugh like a loon on loon tablets.

I was getting a bit miffed.

"Black."

"Sorry, Evans," he laughed, "Yeah, I'll help you, because this will ultimately help James…hahaha…yeah, I'll take you to Hogsmeade tomorrow."

And he was off laughing again.

"Thanks," I breathed and smiled.

Bloody hell.

I was relieved.

EURGH.

We walked back out into the corridor. Then Black cast me a wicked grin and winked at me.

I suddenly felt violated.

"Evans? Lily?"

"Black? Sirius?"

He pursed his lips together in a vain attempt to keep from laughing. He didn't quite succeed, "Will you…haha…go to Hogsmeade with me?"

Stares.

From _everyone_.

And there was no shortage of people in the corridor.

Stupid little bugger.

"Why yes, I will," I said through clenched teeth. I glared at him.

He smirked and winked again, "See you later than, _Lily."_

Arse.

* * *

_And there you have it. Now officially 4:33 am, I am going to make myself a large pot of coffee._

_Laters!_

_Oh, and review!_

_--NeverAPrefect_


	17. Chapter 16

_**Disclaimer: **Yet again, I am on my bed of pain, wishing very hard that I was JKR_

_Do you lot know that i LUUUUURVE you all? Because I do. I HAVE 120 REVIEWS!!!! Thank you sosososo much. So, I really did want to get this up earlier, but sadly, I lost the memory stick that I put this on. I had to clean my room to find it- not an easy task. So now I have finished my uni appios, and can get back to writing this a little better. Oh! and before I forget: I have been reading a lot of fanfics while looking for my story, and I have noticed a common occurence. Boys seem to be wearing knickers. In England, boys wear pants, and we girls wear knickers. So when we said that a boy's knickers are in a twist, it's really a double insult. Because not only are we saying that he is being shirty, we are also calling him a girl. Just thought I'd point that out. Yes. Well, vair, vair humongous fanks to: cookiedoughYUM, Fey Holden, ferras'girl, Artemis Cullen, xpipx, chezE122091, Farm Queen, .stars.41., summersrain, Nebulous Paragon, Romancing Hogwarts x3, TeenyTinyGirl, oceanlover14, LilyHeartsMarauders, sadiesaid, Trinix216, WisdomWriter25, l., usuallyclueless, SpiderLily, elusiveprodigy, lweasel, tothenines, .loverr, greenricecakes99, HPlovaa, HellsQueen_, _and elle. Whose little plume-de-nom is not working when I type it. _

* * *

**Chapter Sixteen: Hogsmeade**

"Lily…oh, Lily…WAKE, UP, LILY!"

I shot up, "Whuzgoinon?"

I groggily rubbed my eyes and found Bridget about a foot from my face.

"Merlin, Bridget!" I scrambled back into my headboard, thus bonking my head rather hard.

Bridget had jumped up and was humming the new Celestina Warbeck song very off-key. She was going through my trunk, literally ripping my carefully organised clothing to shreds. I jumped off my bed and pushed her out of the way.

"You know, I really could hurt you right now," I muttered.

She pranced out of the way, still humming, "Lily, we're going to Hogsmeade today. You're going with Sirius. You should really start to get ready."

Oh, for the love of pants.

This girl was going to drive me bonkers.

Once I was ready and dressed to (Bridget's idea of) perfection, she marched me down to the Great Hall for breakfast. After breakfast, all of the third through seventh years made our way out to the entrance hall.

"Oy, Evans! Over here!"

I turned around and saw Black jumping up and down like two jumping things in trousers.

Potter was standing next to him.

Looking rather angry.

I walked over hesitantly. I was really not very excited to be on the receiving end of a Potter-death glare.

"My, my ladies. Aren't we looking v. foxy today," Black joked.

Bridget bounced up, pointedly ignoring Black, "Hey, lads. Ready for this trip? I've been looking forward to this since…well, last week."

Black raised an eyebrow and looked like he was ready to have a laugh. Potter pursed his lips together and pointedly looked not at me.

Bugger. Some fantastic plan this was turning out to be.

"Well, Evans, shall we?" Black asked, sweeping a flowery bow, "S'later, Prongs."

I felt Potter glaring at my back. I really felt bad about all this. This probably looked really bad to Potter. Honestly, I had been complaining about Sirius Black since first year, going on about how annoying and irritating he was, and here I was, going to Hogsmeade with the bloke. I understood why he was mad. I just hoped that he'd understand.

You know, if I ever summoned up the bravery to actually tell him that I fancied him.

Black and I walked in and awkward silence for a little while.

I hated awkward silence.

"So, Evans, what's going on with you and your mate? You know, the one you aren't speaking to?" Black asked, flashing a grin.

Way to go and pick the worst subject. Black really had perfected the skill of having absolutely no social graces.

I sighed, "Honestly? I'm not really sure. Right before the last Head patrol, the one Potter skived off on? Yeah, Emily came up to me and said that she fancied him. Potter, I mean. And then Marlene and I had a chat, and well…"

"You realised that you were completely in luuuuuurrrrve with my best mate?" Black asked in a sing-songy voice that made me want to slap him.

"That was the gist of it. Anyway, ever since Bridget and Marlene told her about my…epiphany, she's been in a complete strop. But it's weird, sometimes she acts like she's going to talk to me, but then frowns, almost to herself, and goes all stroppy again," I explained. In a very roundabout fashion.

"So, the short and short is that Emily's in a ditherspaz because you started- though I highly doubt just started- to fancy the bloke she suddenly rates? Merlin, Evans, I had no idea your mates were so devious," and he shook his hair out of his grey eyes.

What in the name of Merlin on a splintered broomstick was he talking about?

My mates, _devious_?!

We were talking about Emily I-hate-breaking-any-rule Cummings! And Bridget Head-on-a-clud O'Leary! Bloody hell, _I_ was more devious than they were. And _that_ is saying something.

Black opened the door to the Three Broomsticks for me. I stared. He waggled his eyebrows at me. I sighed and walked in. Black led me to a table and went to go get some butterbeer.

Leaving me to completely regret this stupid, bloody ridiculous plan. I turned to look out the window, hating my miserable life, when I saw Potter, Remus, Bridget, Emily, and Peter going into Honeydukes.

Suddenly I felt very alone.

Black returned and pushed a butterbeer my direction, "Alright, Evans, lets hear about you fancying my best mate."

I glared at him

Brillopads, I was explaining myself to the one person in the entire school who could turn this around and make me look like a complete arse.

Was I daft?

Yes, apparently.

"Look, Black, I know that I've been mean to Potter ever since…well, forever, but you have to believe me that I actually _do _fancy him. This isn't just a stupid plot to make him look stupid," I started off.

"I know," Black said matter-of-factly.

Huh. Really?

"What I don't know, though, is why the bloody hell I had to be involved," he said, leaning back in his chair.

"Well, its sort of complicated. Bridget and Marlene said that Potter won't suddenly believe that I just started to fancy him," I said lamely.

"To right. He'd suspect that someone had slipped you a bit of the Amortentia he made in Potions," Black took a long gulp of butterbeer, "And really, he'd probably be scared out of his pants. Let's face it, Evans, you really are absolute rubbish with relationships."

Excuse me?

I really did not need that rubbed in my face right now.

"Thank you, Black," I said through clenched teeth.

"Oh, come off it, Evans. First there was that disastrous plot with Tony Spinnet and Eva Mees, back in fifth year. Then sixth year there was…well, for some reason, that one turned out right…Alice and Frank…but this term has been ridiculous," he paused, "Or hilarious, depending. Because there was that whole deal with you and Hensley, which _I_ though was the biggest laugh of all time. And the whole completely mental _whatever_ with Emily and Wilmington-"

"Yes, thank you, Black," I said icily, "Which is why I'm assuming that Marlene and Bridget suggested I talk to you, since you are Potter's best mate."

Black laughed his bark-like laugh, "Yeah, sure. I'll do what I can. Which will amount to me telling dear old James, 'Come on, mate. You know that the 9,675,343,259 time's a charm.'"

"Please, Black?" I asked, getting a little fed up.

"Yeah, I'll help, Evans. Only because James has been trying to get you to go out with him since about second year," then he paused, and looked pensive, "Speaking of, as your Marauder luuuurrve master extraordinaire, here is my first piece of advice: call him 'James' and not 'Potter'. That in itself will make things more…intimate."

He pulled out of the way as I made to hit him. But he did have a point.

No matter what I liked to argue.

We got up and left, after paying Madam Rosmerta. I opened the door and shuddered at the bitter cold. I hated how cold it felt the last week before Christmas holidays. Almost as if you could feel bits of you freezing off. For some ridiculous reason, it never felt this cold _after_ the holidays.

"You know, Evans, I _did _warn you about all this nonsense," Black said, walking next to me. We had decided to go meet our mates at Honeydukes. Because we were apparently some sick, masochistic, gluttons for horrid punishments.

"What in Merlin's name are you on about, Black?" I asked. I swear I could feel my lips turning blue.

"At the beginning of term? Right when we got our course timetables? James stole your diary?" he looked at me like I was thick.

Ahh…yes, I remember. Potter stole my diary to see what classes we had together. Stupid bugger. I sort of needed my timetable to see what class I had when. I had told him not to take other people's things…

"You told him not to steal other people's things. And I told you the same thing," Black said, smirking.

"Which was completely mental, by the way. I hadn't stolen anything, you know," I pointed out. By the time we got to Honeydukes, my nose would be as red as my hair. That would be good. Then Potter could say 'Cor, Evans, what a red conk.' And then I could die.

Anyway.

Black laughed again, and brushed his hair out of his eyes, "Yes, you did. Just not physically. You, my dear girl, stole James's heart," he shuddered, "That came out much weedier than I thought it would."

I stole his heart?

Really?

…sigh…

* * *

_Well, there it is. Oh, and a 'diary' is not a journal...its like a little personnal calendar. Just to skip out on confusion. _

_Huggles to all!_

_--NeverAPrefect_


	18. Chapter 17

_**Disclaimer: **No, not JKR. I've tried though. Just doesn't seem to be working_

_Good lord! You're all FAB. I have some of the best readers in the world! (And i literally mean that; you lot are from EVERYWHERE!) I must apoligise for not getting this up sooner today, but first I had to watch a very important match on the telly. And now here I am, in a ridiculously good mood because United beat Tottenham!!! YAY! They are now onto the next round of the FA Cup. (They are also top of Premier League...hahaha to all Liverpool and Chelsea fans...) And then, of course, I had to call my brothers at uni to talk about the match some more. So sorry this took so long, but here it finally is! Humongous thanks to __I am Animal, oceanlover14, summersrain, FarmQueen, sadiesaid., TeNnIs-PlAyEr, l., goldeneyedgirl247, HPlovaa, Artermis Cullen, Sparkles of Youthfulness, .loverr, MissMarauder4487, jp'slover4life, .stars.41, LilyHeartsMarauders, shygirl135, pepsixD, cookiedoughYUM, I Don't Dance I Fall, HellsQueen, Carola-x, maruthefairu, Silver15Rose, brdwybambino94, Rosebud6101, and my dear bells (You are extraordinarily dim, you know that, right?)_

_Oh, and someone mentioned this...the temperatures I say are in Celcius. So I really don't know how cold that is in Fahernheit. Sorry!_

* * *

**Chapter Seventeen: Defence Against the Dark Arts**

While that little revelation from Black kept me blissfully content for about a day, sadly, all good things must come to an end.

After we met up with our mates at Honeydukes (that was bloody awkward…and very hard to ignore Potter's pointed glaring) we quickly walked to the Three Broomsticks (again) and sat there for hours, mostly just to get warm. Like I said, it was probably -20 degrees out there. And windy to boot.

Monday marked the start of the last week of class before Christmas holiday.

This week is what Bridget happily calls 'What-Fresh-Hell' week.

The professors always seem to find something disgustingly relevant to teach us, and then, as if they're all very bloody surprised that the holiday comes, decide to give us a dragon's weight in holiday homework. Thus it is affectionately called 'What-Fresh-Hell' week.

Transfiguration was horrid. McGonagall made us work on our projects during class as well, and when Black asked to used the loos, McGonagall snapped and told him he'd best hold it, otherwise he'd never use a toilet again.

Ah, the spirit of the season, eh?

My favourite part was the fact that Black had apparently not talked to Potter yet. Or, if he had, hadn't gotten very far. Because now Potter wasn't speaking to me. Which made Head Patrol that week a silent event.

"You know, Potter, it wasn't a real date or anything," I said as we walked up the stairs.

He turned to glare at me, "What?"

"Hogsmeade. It wasn't a real date. Hasn't Black told you?" I asked.

"Well, er, yeah, he has," Potter blushed a little, "But you know Sirius, you can never tell when he's being a smartarse or not."

Fantastic job, Black. I ask you for help and you fail with spectacular colours.

"Remind me to curse him when I see him again," I muttered.

Potter looked visibly cheered. Good lord, that boy was as moody as a girl with the painters in.

Sadly, this did not make me fancy him less.

I actually thought it was cute how he wore his heart on his sleeve.

Disgusting, I know.

"So what are you doing for the holidays, Evans?" he asked, making stilted conversation.

"Erm, just going home. Christmas with family and all that. I'll probably spend most of my time avoiding Petunia. In the last owl Mum sent me, she said Tuney's whale of a boyfriend proposed. So now she's bloody engaged," I answered. Stupid prat of a sister, "What about you?"

"Oh, er, the same. Except no sisters to avoid," he grinned hesitantly at me.

"You have no idea how lucky that makes you," I muttered darkly.

He laughed, "Yeah, well, Sirius is living with my family, right? Sometimes he must count as a sister."

Right, I had heard that. Black had run away from his pureblood-crazed family last year. In that respect, I applauded Black. No matter what an annoying little berk he was, he at least didn't believe the same archaic ideas that some of my other ex-bext-mates (cough Sev cough) held to be true.

Potter and I had been walking in awkward silence for a while. Since when had it turned awkward, I honestly don't know. Maybe that's what happens when you realise you fancy someone.

We walked back to the Common Room and awkwardly said good night to each other. By then I was so sick of awkward that I wanted to throw something heavy and damage-inducing.

What a way to start What-Fresh-Hell week.

…………..

"Alright, class. Now I know that many of you are starting to become stressed with N.E.W.T.s coming up, so I thought we'd have a little fun this week," said Professor Dinedan, the Defence Against the Dark Arts professor, "Also, the Headmaster thinks that a review of these spells will benefit you, seeing the current events."

Well, 'fun' was my middle name. (Actually, it's Margaret.)

And there had been a rise in reported Death Eater attacks according to the Daily Prophet. So whatever 'treat' Dinedan had in store for us, I would actually try to take to heart.

"Today we will be practicing our Disarming Spells," Dinedan continued, "So partner up and let's get started!"

I found myself facing Potter.

The word to describe this? Yes, AWKWARD.

Story of my life these days.

"Ready, Evans?" Potter challenged, eyes shining with glee.

OK, a little normalcy.

"You're going to end up Disarmed, Potter," I quipped.

"Oooh, she talks big. But can she handle herself against Potter the Magnificent?" he got ready with a flourish.

"You're ego has reached astronomical new sizes, Potter," I said dryly, "It's most unbecoming."

Also, it's a little creepy to hear yourself referred to in third-person. Very primary school.

Within twenty seconds, Potter was sitting on his arse, his wand in my hand.

'Damn, Evans!" he stood up, rubbing his bum

"How's Potter the Magnificent?" I sneered.

"Mate, I told you to stop calling yourself that. You're only embarrassing yourself," Black called across the room as he Disarmed Peter one handed.

"Yeah? Well, seeing as you haven't stopped calling yourself Sirius the Glorious…" Potter trailed off.

"That's because that's true, Prongs. Ask any fifth year girl," Black flashed a grin and lazily Disarmed Bridget.

"Black just beat you in the How Big Is Your Ego game, Potter," I said with a grin.

"A game I have excelled at for years, Evans," Black replied glibly. Bridget snatched her wand out of his hand and then performed her specialty: a Hair-Raising Hex.

Potter, Peter, Remus, Emily, Bridget, me…pretty much everyone in the room laughed as Sirius Black's elegant dark hair stood up on end.

Rather than look embarrassed, the stupid prat ate it up. He flashed a flirtatious grin and patted his hair. We only laughed harder. Then Professor Dinedan got all shirty and performed the Counter-Curse. Black's hair laid back down, though a little messier and Potter-ier than usual.

We all filed out of class when the bell rang, Black still chortling over his display, ignoring the fact that it was really all Bridget's fault.

"You know," Bridget said, coming up next to me as we left the room, "For some reason, I am really looking forward to class this week."

Famous last words.

What-Fresh-Hell week continued with spectacular results. I think even Professor Slughorn was becoming an ardent believer: we had to make a Sleeping Droughts and then Thursday was disastrous as we tried to brew Veritaserum. Bridget's was so bad that it made whoever drank it start spewing lies. Black's burnt through the vial he had to hand it in inside, Potter's looked like gelatine, and one of the Slytherin's actually started to wail like a banshee. Out of our entire class, only three people managed to produce Veritaserum: Remus, Snape, and me. And even then, they weren't top results.

This was the day after we were told that we'd be doing Patronuses in Defence Against the Dark Arts on Friday, the day before the holidays started. Professor Dinedan blithely informed us that he wanted a two foot essay on the spell and its significance after the holidays.

Ah, how I do love What-Fresh-Hell week.

"You know, I really do think that the professors have gone mad," Bridget sighed Thursday afternoon as she and I plopped down in chairs in the Common Room. I noticed Emily sit down a little ways away from us, "We're going to go on holiday in two days, and I have more work than I've had all term."

I snorted, "No, the professors haven't gone mad- they've decided to give us pressies early."

Bridget smacked me and the two of us began the tiresome work of an essay on the Patronus Charm.

By the next day, I was unbelievably ready for Christmas.

Honestly, Saturday couldn't come quickly enough.

I was very short tempered as I entered Defence Against the Dark Arts Friday afternoon. I wanted to get this class over with, that way I could have my free period to go and stick quills in my eyes. And very possibly Stun several dozen people. I had already told off a group of first year Hufflepuffs for giggling to loudly.

You see the kind of mood I was in?

"Attention! Attention, please!" Professor Dinedan called as we all took our seats, "As I told you all last class, today we will be reviewing the Patronus Charm. Now, who can tell me the proper incantation?"

Chuck Wilmington the Wanker raised his hand (we had Defence Against the Dark Arts with the Ravenclaws), "_Expecto Patronum."_

"Brilliant, Mr Wilmington. Miss Evans, could you please tell us the other crucial element to casting a successful Patronus Charm?"

Err…I remember reading this, "You have to concentrate on a really happy memory while casting the charm."

"Excellent, Miss Evans," Dinedan turned and wrote these things on the blackboard, "Now, remember, the memory must be a very happy memory, because otherwise the charm won't work. Although it will be hard to really concentrate on a happy memory because the dementors will suck all the happy thoughts out of you, _you must concentrate_. If you do not, your Patronus will not have a concrete form and will not provide an adequate force to drive back the dementors. As before, when we worked on Disarming and Stunning, we will work as a class. I will be coming around to offer tips and such. You may begin."

And will that, the class began to say the incantation.

"_Expecto Patronum!"_ I murmured as I concentrated on a happy memory.

Nothing.

Damn.

I remembered that back in fifth and sixth year, it had taken me about a dozen tries before I produced an adequate Patronus. Bugger it all.

Bridget was angrily whacking her wand to hopefully produce a Patronus, and Emily was glaring daggers at the two Ravenclaws who had managed to produce Patronuses with concrete forms already. The Marauders, on the other hand were chatting in a corner, seeming to not have a care in the world.

"Do you lot think that you'll never have need for a Patronus?" I snapped at them.

They looked at me. Remus gave a small but sneaky grin, "No, Lily. We just don't see the point in wasting our time practising what we already know."

Emily heard him. She whipped her head up, "Prove it."

Remus looked at his friends, who chuckled and nodded, "_EXPECTO PATRONUM!"_

Out of the tip of his wand emerged a silvery, though very thin, wolf. It stood there for a moment before raising its head in a silent howl.

I was burning with jealousy.

So, it appeared, were Emily and Bridget.

"Just concentrate on a really happy memory," Remus said with a cautious, smug smile.

Bridget screwed her nose up and narrowed her eyes. Then, as if she had hit upon an idea, her face lit up and she yelled, "_EXPECTO PATRONUM!"_

She gasped as a sparrow Patronus flowed from the tip of her wand and began to circle the classroom.

"Oh!" she murmured, eyes wide.

"Well done, Miss O'Leary, Mr Lupin!" called Dinedan from where he was helping some students.

Now I was really jealous.

Black smirked at my fuming, "Watch this, Evans."

"_Expecto Patronum!"_ he called loudly.

Out of the stupid little git's wand came a large, shaggy dog. It was _huge_. It bounded over to where Remus's wolf Patronus was placidly sitting.

By now the room was beginning to fill with Patronuses of various forms. Even _Peter, _dim little Peter, had produced a silvery, rat-shaped Patronus. Potter was laughing at my pitiful attempts. This year, my Patronus was turning out to be what Emily's was last year: a duvet.

Suddenly, Emily gave an exasperated sigh and cried, _"EXPECTO PATRONUM!"_

A beautiful, elegant horse Patronus leapt out of her wand, startling so much that she uncharacteristically fell backwards on her bum.

I glared. Almost everyone had a Patronus scampering through the room but me.

Well, Potter and me.

"Shut up, Potter," I snapped at him as he laughed at me again.

"Sorry, Evans, you're face was just too adorable to not laugh at it," and he continued to laugh.

"Yeah? Well, I haven't seen _you _produce a Patronus yet," I shot back.

He thought I looked adorable? Really?

"Not because I haven't failed, Evans. I just have chosen not to," Potter shrugged, "It's much more interesting to see everyone else's attempts that to just do it myself."

"You are an unbearable git."

"Think what you will, Evans," his eyes shone with an wicked light behind his glasses, "I bet that you can't make a _real_ Patronus faster than I can."

Oh, really?

"You're on, Potter," I retorted.

He laughed again "Alright, Evans. On three. One…Two…Three!"

I concentrated on the happiest memory I could find. It was from back in fourth year, near the end of the term, when it was warm outside. Emily, Bridget and I were lying on the edge of the lake, laughing as the Marauders did something really naff, but ridiculously hilarious. I don't remember specifically why I was so happy, but I just was.

"_EXPECTO PATRONUM!"_ my voice mingled with Potter's as we bellowed the incantation.

Something shot out of my wand. Unlike my other attempts, this had a concrete form right away. Something with elegant, thin legs.

A silvery doe Patronus.

I didn't notice the whole room had gone silent until I noticed (through my extreme happiness that I had succeeded) that my Patronus wasn't standing alone. Standing next to my beautiful doe was a very elegant, strong looking stag Patronus that hadn't been there a moment before.

I felt my stomach drop and my face go white.

If that stag hadn't been there a moment ago, whose could it be?

My face went from white to bright red in under a second.

I slowly turned to face Potter, who was looking at me in askance. His hazel eyes were wide as we just stared at each other, unable to believe what we saw.

Whoever heard of _matching Patronuses?_

Suddenly, the silence that filled the room was broken by Sirius Black...

"So, who else thinks this means something?"

* * *

_Thank you all for reading, and please go and make my fantastic day even better by reviewing!_

_--NeverAPrefect_


	19. Chapter 18

_**Disclaimer: **Believe me, if I was JKR, you'd know_

_Hello, chums and chumettes! I am writing to you from the delightful portal that is my mate Suze's computer (memory sticks are beautiful things). We are supposed to be working on our physics project, which is why I am here spending the night...but my mum doesn't have to know that I am secretly being devious. So here is a new chappie. I am not completely happy with it; had to re-write it a few times. I like it much better than the (complete poo) first draft. I also had to retitle it several times. It still does not make much sense (the title, that is) but still...Anyway. You are some of the best readers, you know that? My A/Ns double when I simply include all your names. I luuurve it. So here's to you! Goodnight and fanks to: __shygirl135, l., I am Animal, TeNnIs-PlAyEr, .stars.41, jessicats, HPlovaa, FarmQueen, .loverr, oceanlover14, Lil Enchantress, Rosebud6101, Zaziness, summersrain, Artermis Cullen, , soumy, vampirebutterflyqueen, RedEyesGreenSkin, jp'slover4life, sadiesaid., xboredeasilyx, Romancing Hogwarts x3, HellsQueen, goldeneyedgirl247, twihard-fanpire, PhirePhly-, The Tenth Doctor's Companion, FallingForFootie, LilyHeartsMarauders, snevans78, cookiedoughYUM, mutedecember43712, frogsdung, xx siriusly lily xx, WisConSin-BloNd, MissMarauder4487, and 13magicalm0ments. You're all loverly!_

* * *

**Chapter Eighteen: Contemplate**

"…and then… Lily, are you even listening to me?" Bridget glared at me from across the compartment.

I turned away from the window quickly and looked at her, "Hmmm?"

She glared, her light blue eyes clearly saying that I was the world's biggest prat.

And then she pointedly ignored me.

I sighed and looked back out the window as the English countryside gradually yielded to the hilly landscape of the Scottish highlands.

Bridget and I were sitting in a prefect compartment at the front of the train as we made our way back to Hogwarts after Christmas holidays. This was mostly because we (or at least I) was not yet back on speaking terms with a certain Miss Emily Cummings, and could therefore avoid her only in the prefect compartments, seeing as she wasn't a prefect. Then again, neither was Bridget, but that is beside the point.

Also, though I would never admit this, I was quite nervous about seeing Potter again.

I had spent most of my holiday trying to avoid thinking about the fact that our Patronuses had matched on the last day of term. That hadn't worked out so well. Instead, my stupid brain decided to keep bringing it up every time I had a spare moment. I eventually got so frustrated that I went to Diagon Alley on Boxing Day just to visit Flourish and Blotts to see if there were any books about things like that happening. Unfortunately, that plan had sort of backfired. I had indeed found out about Patronus shape in a very interesting book entitled _Seeing Your Own Shape: Demystifying Patronuses_. Apparently, a Patronus shows a kind of essence of yourself: your personality and/or emotions take on a concrete shape in your Patronus. There had been few reported cases of matching, male-female Patronuses (this did not make me happy, what with the lack of information, though I will admit to feeling a little tingly when I read the next bit) but when there were, they usually occurred with people who were so completely in harmony with each other that they tended to end up very happy with each other, usually married.

The idea of marrying Potter had made me smile. I had even idly scrawled _Lily Potter_ on a scrap of parchment before realising exactly how very first-year that seemed and tore it up.

Then came the backfiring part.

It was like a Filibuster's Wet-Start Firework imploding.

That's how ghastly it was.

I had been walking out of Flourish and Blotts, planning on going to the Leaky Cauldron for a butterbeer, or something equally warm before Apparating home, when I saw Potter and Black coming out of Gambol and Japes, Zonko's less-posh competition. In my mind it worked like this:

Me: walks up to Potter

Potter: smiles at me

Me: says something v. sophisticated, while flicking hair and managing to not look like a complete prat

Potter: forgets himself and snogs me

Of course, this was all in my head. What really happened was this:

Potter and Black: spot me looking like a flustered loon and blushing madly

Me: panics and immediately Apparates back home

You see? I was a pathetic loser.

"I practised my Patronus Charm over the holidays. I was able to get it to be a sparrow every time!" Bridget interrupted my embarrassed musing.

Unlike Emily, Bridget could rarely hold a grudge. She was also not known for her glaciosity (being icy and aloof and not speaking to one's best mate in lieu of being like a glacier).

And she was talking about Patronuses. Which is precisely what I didn't want to be talking about.

"Fan-bloody-tastic" I grunted.

"Speaking of Patronuses, it was really bizarre that you and James had the same Patronus, only yours was female," she prodded.

What a wanker.

She had not shut up about this after Defence Against the Dark Arts, in the dormitory packing, on the train home, at the platform after we got to London, or in the letters she sent me.

I was going to hex her. I swear to Merlin.

"Honestly, Lily. Sirius was right. The odds of that occurring are about one in a billion. That _has_ to mean something. And I know you fancy Potter and all, but that goes further than fancying. Patrick's in Ravenclaw, right? And they're all ridiculously intelligent there," Bridget rolled her eyes at having to mention her younger brother, "He says that none of the Ravenclaws had ever even _heard_ of Patronuses matching, and the only reference he could find of matching Patronuses was in _Magicks Moste Complecks_ which was written about five centuries ago, and even that was very ambiguous. It only said something about 'personalities being perfectly in sync'or whatnot. Lily, you really need to talk to James. You two could possibly be _made _for each other! He could be your One-And-Only! And really-"

I stood up abruptly, my face hard. If I was going to resist slapping her, I needed to leave.

"I'm going to the food trolley."

I stalked out of the compartment and walked down the train until I found the witch that pushed the trolley.

She smiled at me kindly, "What can I get you, dearie?"

I smiled thinly, "Er, a cauldron cake, three Chocolate Frogs, and one pack of Bertie Botts Every-Flavour Beans, please"

As she handed me my purchases, a compartment door opened and two dark-haired people started to make their way towards the trolley.

Oh dear.

What had I done wrong? Did I really deserve this? And _why_ oh _why_ couldn't the trolley witch get a move on?!

"Oh, hello, Evans. Fancy seeing you here," said Black as he gave a slow, long-lashed wink.

I was blushing scarlet at I concentrated on not looking up at Potter. Apparently in my ludicrous fancying and then matching-Patronus-ing, I had turned into a thirteen year old twot who can't even look at boys without giggling and blushing furiously.

"Hi, Black," I muttered as I handed over the sickles to pay for my sweets, "Hello, Potter."

I hazarded a glance up through my fringe at Potter. He was looking just as awkward I felt as he ran his fingers through his hair. He was even a little pink about the cheeks, too. I couldn't help but notice how good he looked in his new jumper either. Very broad shouldered and muscle-y…

"Oh, er, hi, Evans," Potter mumbled, "Er, h-how was your holiday?"

"Oh! Er, fine, I suppose, er…yours?"

"Fine. Er, I suppose I, er, should be getting my sweets," he looked stricken suddenly, "Not that I don't enjoy talking to you, but er…oh, bugger."

Black looked like he was about to explode with laughter.

He was going to be my next partner if we ever had to practise duelling in class. I had been working on my Stinging Hex and Jelly-Leg Curse.

Black finally succumbed and gave a laugh, "You two are being ridiculous," he grabbed his sweets and threw a smirk at me, "See you later, Head Girl."

And just like that, he swaggered off.

Leaving me, blushing like an idiot, with Potter, who was glaring daggers at his best mate's retreating back.

Despite the fact that what I really wanted to do was run away as fast as was humanly possible, I did realise that this was beyond absurd. Potter and I had been completely normal around each other until two weeks ago! Even when I realised I fancied him! What the bloody hell had happened to the world?!

Answer? It had gone completely mental.

I glanced around anxiously, "Er, I really should be getting back to my compartment…Bridget will be wondering where I've got to."

"Oh, er, yeah, me too. I, er, promised Moony I'd bring him some Droobles, and er, he really like Droobles, so, er, he'll want it soon, and er, yeah," Potter looked at his feet.

I gave a weak smile. I was acting like a complete dolt.

"Yeah, well," I tried smiling again. Then I took a silent deep breath and steeled myself, "See you later then, James."

And I quickly turned to walk back. Though I did glance over my shoulder briefly.

Just long enough to see him staring after me, gob smacked.

I grinned to myself.

Maybe Sirius Black did have a brain.

Merlin knows that wouldn't be the first time recently that something mental had happened.

The rest of the train ride passed uneventfully, as did the first few days back at Hogwarts. It was just a jumble of fourth-year girls chatting about what they had got for Christmas, second-years giggling about who they had seen doing what, and seventh-years glaring at anyone who reminded them that N.E.W.T.s were coming rather quickly.

Professor McGonagall spent the first half-hour of the lesson reiterating her point from the beginning of the year. How these tests could determine our futures, how we'd best take them seriously, how if we were wise, we'd start studying now, etc.

Rather boring lesson, really.

She made a special point to say exactly how those of us with ambitions to be Aurors had best study especially hard, because our N.E.W.T.s would be used to determine whether or not we got into Auror training at the Ministry or not.

I was under the distinct impression that I was not the only person with ambitions to become an Auror. (Though I did know for a fact that Emily wanted to be a Healer, and Bridget _thought_ she _might_ want to work in Magical Transportation. The sheer irresponsibility of this never ceased to astound me.)

We got the same lecture from Professor Dinedan, Professor Vector, Professor Sprout, Professor Flitwick, and Professor Slughorn.

Yes, that would be every one of my professors.

Joyous, no?

No.

Through all of this, I still had time to contemplate (or obsess, depending on how nice you are) my feeling about Potter. None of this musing made it any easier to see him and not blush tomato red, but at least my mind was always going.

Not the right direction, but at least it was going.

And apparently Potter was just as thrown and baffled by the idea of matching Patronuses and the like as I was, because he avoided me just as staunchly as I avoided him.

Whenever we'd see one another in the corridor, I would blush furiously, look at the ground, and pretend I wasn't hyper-aware of his presence.

Oddly enough, Potter thought along the same lines. Bit odd for the boy who chased you (literally) so that he could ask you out twelve times a minute for the past four or five years.

It didn't take a genius to see that this was bizarre. Even Bridget noticed.

"You know, I thought he'd be even more unbearable and arrogant now, but James is just acting like you," she said over a croissant at breakfast.

How well I was aware of _that._

"I've noticed," I muttered crossly as I buttered my toast, "And really, I'm not sure I object-"

Bridget threw an astonished glare at me and interrupted, "Of course you object , you great nutter! It means that he's not speaking to you, which in turn means that this whole I-fancy-James whatsit is not going to go _anywhere_."

When she put it that way…

Bridget sighed and ran a hand through her dark curls.

If anything, I was going to have a stern talk with Potter about my mates using his habits. It was irritating.

Also, it just wasn't the same as when he did it.

Though I'd have to wait until things became normal once again with Potter, that is.

"Look, Lily: I know that this is strange and probably a little scary, but the only way to get this sorted is if you start talking to James. Because he's going to go around acting like an idiot until you do," Bridget stared hard at me.

I squirmed. Really, her stare was quite disconcerting, "But…there are just so many things that are different now!" I sighed, "I wouldn't have a problem walking up to Potter and telling him to stop acting like a berk- normally. But with this whole Patronus whatsit, and since I fancy him…I just…"

"Feel self-conscious and like this means so much you don't want to risk it all falling apart?" Bridget finished gently, "I get it. Really, I do. I have a boyfriend, remember? But honestly, Lily. Even awkward, stilted conversation about…the weather, lessons, or even Quidditch would be better than avoiding each other like you two are."

And with that, she got up, grabbed her rucksack, and left me alone with my toast.

I had been abandoned in my hour of need.

All for a Care of Magical Creatures lesson.

Brilliant.

I finished my toast and reluctantly dragged myself off to Arithmancy.

I trudged up the stairs, feeling very forlorn. I got to the classroom at the exact same time Black and Potter did.

How's that for being born under a bad sign?

Ah, well. No time like the present.

I braced myself: "Hello, Black; hi, Potter," I said lightly.

"Hey, Evans," Potter said, looking at me and blushing lightly.

Adorable.

"How's you morning, Evans-y old pal?" Black flashed a grin, swept his hair elegantly out of his eyes, and threw a (non-Potter) arm around my shoulders.

"Fine, I suppose. How've yours been?" I looked Potter in the eye for a moment before blushing and glancing away.

"Positively delightful," Black drawled.

"OK, I guess. Peter lost his favourite socks so tore our dormitory apart," Potter gave a little grin and quickly glanced at my face before _he_ blushed.

"Before the git remembered he was a wizard and could just Summon it," Black shook his head, "Children these days."

"Honestly. What's the world coming to?" Potter smirked, more his usual (wonderful) self.

Then he glanced at me again and nervously cleared his throat. I bit my lip and looked at my shoes.

Good lord, I was terrible at this.

Arithmancy was dull. To say the very least.

After Defence Against the Dark Arts that day, I went to the library to study, thinking that I could probably find more peace there than in the common room.

Also, the library had the possibility of being Potter-free. And if I was going to study, I needed to keep my thoughts from getting jumbled, which is what they tended to do around Potter.

I walked over to my favourite spot. It was a squishy armchair and little table in the back of the library, next to a large window that over-looked the currently snow-covered grounds. It was the only chair there, and it was in the advanced potions section, which meant that very few people ever ventured there.

Delightfully free of first-years and other such nosy sods.

I flopped down in the chair with a grateful sigh and pulled out my Defence Against the Dark Arts book, and a book I had got out on Animagi for Transfiguration.

I was studying very peacefully, finally able to almost completely rid my brain of all Potter-related thoughts.

"Oh, erm, sorry, Evans," interrupted a voice.

I looked up, "Er, that's fine, Potter. W-why are you here?"

Stupid question, Lily. Why do most people come to the library, if not to snog in the Restricted Section?

(Bad idea, by the way. I had snogged my first, only, and short-lived boyfriend there in fifth year. Madam Pince catching you snogging? Not a high point in your life.)

"To study," Potter gave a quick grin and ran his fingers through his hair. I was beginning to notice he did this more when he was agitated.

"Not _here _the library, but _here_ the advanced potions section. We don't have any homework for Slughorn," I clarified. Merlin's pantyhose, I was really doing stunningly well, wasn't I?

If 'stunningly well' was synonymous for 'very poorly'.

"Oh, that. I mean, er, you're sitting in the most comfortable seat in the place," Potter said.

"Oh. Er, sorry. D'you want me to move? Or, we could, er, pull up another chair," I said in a rush, "If you like."

"No, that's fine. I've got to, er, go ch-change…my…ears," Potter turned and walked off.

I was blushing furiously and staring after him for a good five minutes after he left.

THIS WAS BLOODY RIDICULOUS.

Maybe I could just stop fancying him, and then things would go back to normal.

Ha.

And Sirius Black looked like a hag's backside.

* * *

_And that's that! For those of you wondering, there are maybe six chapters left. Maybe. Also, I have recently seen Ferris Bueller's Day Off, that great American film classic. If you can spot the line from that then you are among the truly marv. Oh, and Gambol and Japes is a shop; it was referenced in the second book (CoS). So, no, I didn't make that up._

_The school books I did_

_So ttfn!_

_--NeverAPrefect_


	20. Chapter 19

_**Disclaimer: **No, sorry. Not JKR. _

_Hello again! Here is the next installment in my story. I do hope ou like it. I like this chapter a little better than I liked the last one. In case you were curious. Oh, and happy Luuuuurrrve Day. I hope you did hav a wonderful St V's Day. Personally, I have never been a fan, but that could be because I lack a valentine. Ah,well. Also, I do hope all my Australian readers are alright; I saw on the BBC that you lot have been having some terrible fires down under. (hehe, I always wanted to say 'down under'. Except living in England means I never get to say that) So I hope you are all OK! And little boxes of luuurrve to oceanlover14, FarmQueen, sadiesaid., Zaziness, goldeneyedgirl247, HenSleigh, TeNnIs-PlAyEr, gossipcuti3girl, harrypotterloverr, summersrain, XxX-SparklingEyes-XxX, shygirl135, sw1x, HellsQueen, AddictedToPotterAndProudOfIt, megan159, X5 494 and X5 454, MissCanada, twihard-fanpire, xboredeasilyx, LilyHeartsMarauders, HarryndGinny4eva, leenchanted, opungo, crazyForJames, queenphebee, angelbaby696, and a dim cousin._

_Oh, and my American cousin who reads this says that i may want to clarify 'fringe' because in America, you don't have that. I told her of course you do- she had a fringe. But whatever. I will humour her. Fringe= goofy bit of hair that's cut shorter than the rest in the general forehead area. _

* * *

**Chapter Nineteen: Common Room**

In case you are wondering, things did not miraculously get better overnight.

No matter what I wished for. (Stars these days. You wish upon them and what happens? I'll tell you: nothing.)

Potter and I did seem to reach a mutual understanding of how absolutely pathetic we were being, and tried to improve things a bit.

A bit.

"Er, hello, Potter," I muttered as I walked in to Herbology.

"Hi there, Evans," he replied. Apparently his Venomous Tentacula was very interesting, because he was (uncharacteristically) studying it intently.

"Decided to become a herbologist, Potter?" I asked with a (perfectly normal) chuckle. Because as we know, I am nothing but calm and collected.

He glanced up at me in surprise, "No, just peering at my…er…plant," he flashed a grin, "What is this again?"

!!!!!

(That would be me having a small but potent nervy spaz at Potter. More specifically, his smile)

"V-venomous Tentacula," I stuttered.

"Right," he went a bit pink about the cheeks and turned back to the plant he was sharing with Black.

Who, speaking of, was leering at me like two leering things at a leering party.

Yet again, I resisted the overwhelming urge to slap him.

After class, Potter courteously held the greenhouse door open for me as I made my way out into the bitter January cold. Which, or course, he had been doing for years now, combined with loudly claiming he was bringing back chivalry. I would usually respond with 'tell that to Sir Cadogen'.

Today, however, neither of us said anything. He simply held the door as I made my way out, and I simply flashed a small grin of thanks, ignoring the butterflies that were competing for a WWE spot in my stomach.

Later that week, I was doing my usual look-like-you-are-avoiding-while-secretly-borderline-stalking Potter. I had decided that I was going to strike up a very mature conversation (again attempting to not look like a great prat) and convince him that I was not, as he may have believed, going mad.

(Now, if I could convince myself of this, that would be brilliant)

I nonchalantly strolled about the corridors, covertly looking for Potter.

I swear my bed at St. Mungo's was ready with my name on it. And some very large people standing next to it, to make sure I didn't hurt myself. I really was going mad. If you would have told me three months ago that I would be going out of my way to find JAMES THE GIT POTTER, I would have very calmly, in small words, told you to go have your brain examined by Madam Pomfrey. And then most likely laughed derisively at you.

How times change.

I finally spotted him chatting with Black in the seventh-floor corridor. They were laughing about something (undeniably) dim, but looking very yummy scrumboes whilst doing so. (I'll even say that about Black. Because, let's face it: he _was _ridiculously good-looking)

"Potter!" I called out.

He and Black looked at me.

Oh, damn…

I had nothing to say. Poo and double poo. Poo on toast.

"Evans?" Black asked, raising his eyebrow so high that it was completely covered by his dark hair.

I walked up to them, "Yes, er, Potter, I was, er, wondering if you h-happen to have the, er…patrol timetable on you?"

Where did _that _come from?

Potter looked at me in shock and Black looked at me as if I had grown an extra head. I was really regretting telling him about this whole fancying business. He was only being a filthy toerag about it all.

"Yeah, I do, actually," Potter muttered and reached in his trouser pocket. He pulled out a worn piece of parchment that was neatly folded and then pulled out another, much more damaged and smaller piece. This he handed to me.

I opened it and looked at the scrawling handwriting without really seeing it. Bloody hell, _now _what was I going to say?

"Thanks," I grinned and handed it back to him, "I had forgotten when our next patrol was and lost my own timetable."

Very nice, Lily.

Potter turned a trifle pink about the cheeks and then looked at the floor, "I, er, have to go…I have…a…date."

He had a WHAT?!

I thought he fancied _me!_

I whirled on Black, whose eyes were shining with laughter, "He has a _date_?! With whom, may I ask?!"

Black looked at me, completely straight-faced, and said, "Moaning Myrtle."

I glared at him and smacked his shoulder, "You really are an arse, you do know that?"

He laughed his bark-like laugh, "Evans, you really don't think that someone who's been completely in love with you for years would suddenly rate another girl, do you?"

I glared.

"Oh, Evans. Here I was always thinking you were so smart," he patted my head like I was about five years old, "He's just making up an excuse to get away from you before he makes a complete arse of himself. Which, no thanks to Professor Dinedan and Patronus Charms, he seems to be worrying about much more than usual."

And then the stupid git strutted away, whistling that Nat King Cole song. The one that spells 'love'? And then he turned around and winked hugely at me.

I was going to hurt him one day.

Now, allow me to (some what) digress and tell you a lovely story.

Once upon a time there was a girl named…Milly. Who happened to one day realise that she fancied a boy named…Bames. Milly also found out that she had a very similar Patronus to Bames and realised that she just might be in love with this Bames. Who, up until very recently, was an arrogant git whom Milly despised. Now, at heart, Milly was a girl who wanted a happy ending. So she wanted to somehow make things perfect with Bames, but unfortunately, Bames and Milly were now acting very awkward around each other.

And this really annoyed Milly.

This story happens to be based on real life.

And "Milly" was getting really annoyed with this whole whatsit with "Bames".

The End.

Indeed, I am Milly. And I was getting really, _really _irked. Reasons being 1) This was JAMES BLOODY POTTER. Whom I had never had a problem with before I fancied him. 2) How unfair was _that_? I was comfortable with him when I thought he was a wanker and now that I fancied him, it was all I could do to keep from blushing whenever I saw him. 3) Bridget was right. If things never got sorted, I could never snog James. 4) I really wanted to snog James. And 5) I think I was going mental. I didn't even feel like punching Black as much. Which was a sign of madness more than anything.

"It's bloody awful!" I vented to Bridget one afternoon.

"Mmhmm…" she agreed.

I continued, waving my arms as I raved on like a lunatic, "I mean, honestly! It's not as if we've always fancied each other- OK, well, maybe he has- but that's not the point. We were perfectly normal until we went on holiday! And bloody _hell_ it's just _mad_ now. I really think-"

"Lily?" Bridget stopped walking, "I think it's wonderful that you're completely bonkers about James now, but you are acting like a madwoman. If you so want things to be utterly and completely wonderful between the two of you, you know what to do?"

I stared at her.

She sighed, "Go and _talk to him_. I am not James, so it does neither of us any good to have you barking mad and yelling at _me_ about it."

She started to walk away.

Marvy mate, eh?

"_Bridget_!"

……………..

That night, I couldn't sleep.

I tossed and turned for _hours_ under my scarlet duvet.

It was getting bloody ridiculous.

Do you know why I couldn't sleep?

I'll give you a clue: it concerned a bloke.

Every time I tried to close my eyes and sleep, aggravating James Potter interrupted my thoughts.

Why in Merlin's name was he acting like such a prat? (The fact that I sort of was wasn't important) First, the stupid bugger chases me around for _years_ and then the moment we might have the slimmest chance of actually getting together, we go and act like prats about it all. AND THIS HAD BEEN GOING ON FOR OVER A BLOODY WEEK.

I tried to think about all the logical motivations behind these stupid whatsits, but when it came down to wands, I honestly had no idea.

As a self-professed bookworm (and top of the class) I loathed not knowing things.

Unfortunately, no genius to date has ever written a book on the trials and tribulations of love. (Do not tell me Shakespeare did, because he never did. Otherwise I would have found _William Shakespeare's Guide to Love for Dim-Witted Prats_. And I never had.) Oh, no. It could not be that simple. This information I could not go find in a library. It had to come directly from the source.

Then the little witch in my brain shouted "Lumos!"

That was it.

I kicked my duvet off and hopped out of bed. I stormed out of the girls' dormitories and stomped up to the boys'. Once there, I pushed the door open.

"Potter!" I hissed.

My eyes searched the darkness. I hoped I didn't wake Peter- he was a notoriously light sleeper.

I had nothing to fear. He was lying in his bed, earplugs in and a fluffly purple eye-mask on.

He looked like a prat.

"Potter!" I hissed again.

No response.

I groaned silently and looked around at the beds, trying to find out where I had to drag Potter's sorry arse out of.

Remus was curled on his side, facing away from me. Easily the most normal sleeper. Black was lying face down, spread eagle, snoring loudly. And Potter was curled in his duvet like a-

"_Evans_?" came a groggily incredulous voice, "What in Merlin's name are you doing?"

Potter was putting his glasses on, one hand reaching out of the blanket cocoon.

"Picking daisies, Potter," I whispered sarcastically, "What does it look like I'm doing, you filthy git?"

"Barging into my dormitory at half-two in the morning just to yell at me?" Potter mumbled, rolling over.

"No, Potter. I need to talk to you. Er…in the common room." It would be really uncomfortable to have to talk in his dormitory.

Potter turned to look at me. In the light coming from the doorway, I saw him raise an eyebrow. I raised one back.

"Fine, Evans."

Good, because I really needed to talk…to…him…

Merlin's aunt's voluminous knickers.

Potter slept shirtless.

Phwoar.

"Well, come on then, Evans. The faster we finish whatever this is, the faster I can get to sleep," Potter walked up to me.

I felt myself blush.

Quidditch really had done wonders for the bloke.

We walked down to the common room and sat down facing each other, me in an armchair, him on a sofa.

"Yes, Evans?" Potter said, running a hand through his hair and yawning, "You wanted to talk?"

Apparently he could talk to me more easily when he was half asleep.

"Oh, er, yes…well, you see…I…as I just so happens…me…well, I….you…er…" I angrily tucked my hair behind my ear and glared at him, "Could you _please _put a shirt on?!"

Potter looked surprised. Then he grinned, "Why, Evans?"

"Because you're distracting me! Or rather, your chest is!" I snapped.

Oh, no.

Please tell me I did _not_ just say that out loud.

Potter's eyes flashed, "Yeah? Did it occur to you that maybe your _legs_ are distracting as well?"

I hadn't heard a "Lily's legs" comment in a very long time. Not since I pushed him into the lake once in third year.

I glanced down. I had forgotten I was wearing Bridget's ridiculously short shamrock boxer shorts that Sean had given to her for Christmas. (And that I had then stolen.)

I blushed, "Fine. Sorry."

"Not a problem," he yawned again and lied down, "I _do _like those shorts by the way."

Of course he did! They nearly showed my arse! They were never meant to leave the girls' dormitories! That is exactly how short they were.

Enough ranting, "Look, James, I really need to say something."

He opened one eye and then the other, " 'James'?"

"That is your name, isn't it?"

"Yes, it is, _Lily_," little shivers ran up and down my spine.

I took a deep breath and looked down at my lap, "What's been going on with us lately? Because whatever it is is completely ridiculous. It's not like us to not talk to each other, and to run away when we see each other in the corridors. For Merlin's sake, James, it's driving me mad!"

He sat up again and looked at me, his hazel stare causing me to go red, but at the same time urging me to continue. It made me both tingly- like I was going all jelloid- and brave. Brave enough to carry on, at least.

"I know you've fancied me for a while, any prat with half a brain can see that," I was vaguely reminded of when Emily said something very similar to that, "But what you don't know is that I…well, ever since that patrol you skived off and I had to do with Marlene? Ever since then, I've sort of realised that I fancy you, too," his eyes widened and he blushed, "And I tried to make things all normal after I knew that, because if I lost you as a friend, than that would be even more disastrous than if I never told you that I fancied you. And shockingly enough, I do consider you my mate. I think I even consider Sirius Black my mate…but that's not the point. The point is that then there was that catastrophic Defence Against the Dark Arts lesson with the Patronuses, and we never had a chance to talk about what that whatsit means, and then we went on holiday…"

I brushed my fringe out of my eyes and started wringing my hands together, "But now this, James? Really? This whole stupid ridiculous avoiding and being awkward? This is worse than knowing I fancy you and couldn't say anything. Because now we have a reason to talk and we aren't. And that really hurts! I never thought I'd say that, but it really does! And I just don't know what to do, because I think I'm in love with you-"

I stopped and clapped my hands over my mouth.

Oh, no.

What kind of a friend was I?

I just told the boy my mate likes that I bloody _love_ him!

No matter how much of a prat I thought Emily was being, I couldn't ever do that to her. But it appeared I had.

"Lily?" James asked gently. Funny, I didn't even realise that I had started calling him James even when I wasn't talking to him.

To my horror, I started to cry, "Oh, no…no, no, no…I…you…Emily…"

And I started rocking back and forth, tears streaming down my face, chewing on my fingernails (horrid habit, don't ever start- I'd been doing it _forever_). James reached across as if to touch me.

I jumped up, "I'm so sorry," I murmured.

Then I ran.

I ran faster than I ever had, taking the stairs two at a time as I ran up to my bed. I burst through the door, tears still running down my face, sobs racking through my chest.

I thought about James, bewildered and alone down in the common room and started crying harder.

I cried myself to sleep, knowing full well that I would have tiny little mincers in the morning. I didn't care.

Bloody hell, life does go awfully pooey sometimes, doesn't it?

* * *

_And there you have it. Many of you may be able to guess what will happen in the next chapter...but I will never reveal! Mwah ha ha!!_

_Thanks for reading and review, svp!_

_--NeverAPrefect_


	21. Chapter 20

_**Disclaimer: **Roses are red, Violets are blue, I don't own Harry Potter and neither do you (I stole that from someone. Just to let you know)_

_Hello there, reader-types! ENOURMOUS apologies for taking so bloody long to post this. I have been typingly-incapacitated. Last week, I sliced my poor little thumbkin open and had to get it sewn closed. So lackaday, I was unable to type in order to finish this chappie. Mind you, it was not completely awful, as I also bid homework auf weidersehn for a bit. But now my thumb feels better (still has stitches, but they don't hurt) so here is chapter 20! And huge fanks to:Phoebe911, percyfan13, WisConSin-BloNd, StillDontHaveAScreenNameAlyssa, midnightxshadow, i eat slytherins for breakfast, lunerflower, me, You're Just As Sane As I Am, Daisy, CarolineTurpentine, gossipcuti3girl, Channah, ., lunalovegood1263, Bloc-9, HenSleigh, xx siriusly lily xx, greenricecakes99, jp'slover4life, Tia73, XxX-SparklingEyes-XxX, Dinny93, shygirl135, 120307452, gcant2, summersrain, TeNnIs-PlAyEr, HermioneGranger1971, HellsQueen, Zalina, twihard-fanpire (these last two have written a FANTASTIC story called The Innermost Workings Of Her Mind that you should all go read after you read my story!) Blonde K, .loverr, MissCanada, LazyLibra, LilyHeartsMarauders, goldeneyedgirl247, jessicats, cookiedoughYUM, oceanlover14, xboredeasilyx, sadiesaid., saltyrunner878, snevans78, .stars.41, HPlovaa, FarmQueen, and Carola-x_

_Also, some of my Review Reply links weren't working, so many of you didn't get replies. Sorry!_

_Oh, and 'mincers' = cockney rhyming slang for eyes. An expression my naff brother picked up at uni in London. Naff because he is not from London and sounds like a great prat when he tries to sound like he is. _

* * *

**Chapter Twenty: Confessions**

My life was ruined.

RUINED, I tell you!

Now, not only had I told James that I bloody _love _him, I looked like a blotchy and puffy tomato.

Never go to sleep crying. It does horrid things for your face.

I woke up earlier than usual and just stared at the canopy above my bed.

As previously stated, I don't like not knowing things, and now I had a whole host of things I didn't know whirling around in my brain. Among them was what James thought of me now, what he was doing now, what I was going to tell Bridget (because I would have to tell her something), how on Earth to make things better with Emily (because now that I told the bloke she fancies that I love him, I should probably tell her) and what in the name of Merlin's spectacles I was going to do with my hair.

After I had sat there for a while, I heard Emily and Bridget waking up. I supposed this was probably a good time for me to "wake up" as well. So I pulled apart the bed hangings and rolled out of bed.

Silence.

"Merlin on a splintered broomstick, Lily! You look like hell!" Bridget gasped.

Emily just stared.

Bridget walked over to me and raised an eyebrow speculatively, "What the bloody hell happened?"

Oh, dear. Here it comes…

I turned to face Emily. It really was only fair that she hear this. That was she could hex me before I got dressed. Thus eliminating at least one wardrobe change.

'Er…well, you see…last night, I couldn't sleep. So I decided to haul James's-"

" 'James's'?" Bridget said in shock.

"Yes, you twit. That's his name," I pushed back my hair. Good lord, now I was doing the Potter-hand-through-hair, "As I was saying. I went to go haul _James's _sorry arse out of bed and demand what was going on between the two of us lately…what with the not talking and avoiding thing. It was getting mad, really. That's not the point. The point is…I…I-I told James th-that I…love him. I'm so sorry, Emily."

I looked down at my feet. I could feel my cheeks flame.

But then, something happened that I most definitely did not expect.

Bridget _and _Emily came running over to me and then decided to nearly suffocate me in the world's tightest hug.

"Oh, _Lily!"_

"We're so happy-"

"-and proud!"

"I _never_ thought this would _ever_ happen!"

"Oh, this is so _perfect_!"

"Can't…breathe…" I sputtered. They let go and beamed at me.

Then everything seemed to focus suddenly.

I stared at Emily, "Wait. You're _happy_?! I thought you'd be _livid_! I just said that I told the bloke you fancy that I bloody LOVE him! And you're not angry? DID I MISS SOMETHING?!"

Bridget and Emily exchanged a glance. Emily nodded.

Suddenly I was very afraid for my sanity.

Bridget looked up at me and twisted a black curl around her finger, "Now, Lily. Don't be angry, alright?"

"Because we never meant for you to be," Emily interrupted, wringing her hands.

"But…we've sort of borrowed a leaf from Sirius's book. We knew you were never going to admit that you fancied James, so Emily and I decided to take matters into our own hands. We agreed that Emily would pretend to rate James, that way you would be jealous and admit you fancied him," Bridget continued.

Calm, Lily. I was very calm. Deep. Breaths.

"And, well, that worked better than we expected," Emily said, "Once we got Marlene on our side, she agreed to help. So we decided to go a step further and only stop pretending- well, _I'd _stop pretending- after you and James go together. And now that you are, I can stop pretending to be angry at you!"

They smiled at me, pleased with themselves.

I blinked.

Twice.

"You…did all this? ARE YOU BLOODY _MENTAL_?!" I screeched.

They looked shocked and confused, "Er…what?" said Bridget.

I glared, "Last night, I told James that I loved him and then I ran out _crying!_ Because I told him that I COULD NEVER DO THAT TO MY MATE!"

"So…you're _not_ together?" Emily ventured hesitantly.

"NOT EVEN REMOTELY CLOSE! He probably thinks I'm the world's biggest wanker now," Now I was losing it. Yes, definitely a nervy b in the making.

Emily's eyes widened and she looked like she wanted to cry, "Lily, I'm so sorry."

I flopped down onto my bed. I was too emotionally drained to be really angry, "I know. And I know that you were only trying to help."

"Well, we can still fix this," Bridget announced confidently.

I sat up, "How?"

"If you make me pretend to fancy _James Potter_ again, I will hex you here to Mars," Emily said through clenched teeth, "No offence, Lily."

"None taken," I said. I was more preoccupied with what Bridget was saying, "Please do not go all Sirius Black now. I don't think I could handle more than one Black."

Bridget glared, "I'm hurt, Lily. You know, I manage to do a _tasteful_ Sirius Black."

"Oh, dear," Emily muttered.

I could not have agreed more. Nothing against Bridget, but apparently she already tried to help me once…and look what that did!

"Don't worry," Bridget attempted to soothe us, "I'll be very tactful."

She walked out of the dormitory. Emily and I exchanged a look.

"She's going to go cause a catastrophe, isn't she?" Emily said.

"Beyond a doubt," I sighed. Then I smiled at Emily, "It's good to have you back, Em."

She smiled back, "Glad to be back."

Then we hurried after Bridget before she did something _really_ terrible

……………..

Bridget's idea oh handling things involved telling a certain Mr Sirius Black about everything.

Because apparently he wasn't taking the mickey out of me already.

"Evans, I'd be glad to help with your little luuuuuurve fest plans," he winked.

"Black, I swear-"

He just smirked and tossed his hair out of his eyes, "Nonsense, Mrs Potter."

What a git.

Then he left to go join his mates. How very kind of him.

Perhaps I was wrong to assume this, but I thought that things would get better now that we were seriously involving Black the Prat. But no. Yet again, I was under- whelmed with Black's efforts to help me.

I didn't see James all day.

ALL BLOODY DAY.

Well, I saw him. In the literal sense. He moved all the way across the room in Transfiguration, where he could pass notes with his mates "in peace" as Black put it. Then he sat in the back of the room in Charms, several rows behind where he usually sat. And so on.

ALL BLOODY DAY.

And he somehow managed to disappear after ever single lesson. How, I don't know. But he did.

"It's hopeless," I groaned at dinner as I sullenly dished potatoes onto my plate.

"No, it's not," Emily said from behind a Transfiguration book, "Pass the Yorkshire pudding."

Bridget glared, "Don't you say such things, Lily Evans."

The Marauders sat rather far from us, heads together, whispering. Several times I saw James go scarlet, heard Black laugh, and heard Remus telling them all to shut up.

It made me curious. Not only to know what they were talking about, but why it was making James blush. Sometimes they'd glance my way, but I'd quickly look away, in a pitiful attempt to at least make it look like I wasn't ridiculously obsessed with a bloke whom- up until about two months ago- I loathed.

Or at least thought I did. Loathed, I mean. I was beginning to think that maybe I secretly (even secretly to myself) might have fancied him. But first impressions are a difficult thing to get over. And trust me; if you had gotten the same first impression I had, you'd hate the bloke as well.

Emily, Bridget and I went up to the common room after dinner to finish us our homework. Alice and Frank had patrol tonight, so luckily things didn't have to be even more awkward with James. But after only an hour of Defence Against the Dark Arts, I gave up.

"I'm sorry. I just can't concentrate," I said, slamming my book shut, "I'm going upstairs."

Emily opened her mouth, but then shrugged, "Alright. See you in a bit."

Bridget glared but didn't say anything. She wanted me to stay around until things got sorted with James.

Once upstairs, I just sat on my bed, staring out the window, thinking. I thought about a lot, and shockingly not just about James. If I listed all the things I thought of then, I could fill a volume the size of _Hogwarts, A History_.

Emily and Bridget came up a while later and chatted as they got ready for bed. I got ready, too. This time I made sure to put on real pyjamas, not just scandalously short boxers. Tonight I wore the pinstriped jimjam trousers Mum got me last Christmas.

Good thing, too.

Around half-ten, a little second year (I think her name was Annie. I'm not sure) knocked timidly on our door.

"L-Lily Evans?" she squeaked.

I smiled at her, "Yes?"

"Er, the Head Boy wants to see you downstairs. He said to tell you that he says 'please'," she said, looking at her feet.

What. The. Bloody. Hell. Was. Going. On.

"Thank you," I muttered. She scampered off.

I sighed.

"What in Merlin's name are you still doing here?!" Bridget shouted, "Get your arse down there!"

I jumped, "Fine!"

I grabbed a jumper from my trunk, crammed my feet into Bridget's slippers, amidst a 'Hey!' from her, and went down.

Potter was standing at the foot of the stairs. When he saw me, he gave a small smile, "Hi, Ev-Lily. Can we talk?"

I blushed, "Sure."

He grabbed my hand, "Come with me."

Ignoring the shock that went through me when he grabbed my hand, I allowed he to drag me along. Until we went out of the common room.

"Where are we going?" I asked as we left the Fat Lady behind.

He turned around and shot me a grin, "You'll see."

I grinned in return. _This_ was the James Potter I knew. Not that bumbling, blushing boy from a few days ago. We ran down the corridors, occasionally popping behind tapestries and statues and ending up in a completely different corridor. Before I could figure out where we were, James stopped.

We were at the very top of the West Tower, the highest point in the castle after the Astronomy Tower. I walked over to the window.

"Oh…everything looks so peaceful from up here," I sighed.

"Yeah, it does," James started. He sounded distracted, "Lily…those things you said last night…are- are they true?"

Oh, mother of Merlin. The moment of truth.

"Well, erm…in short…yes," I blushed.

James smiled, which I could see in the moonlight from the window, "You know, Lily, I wasn't joking when I asked you out all those times-"

"Four-thousand nine-hundred seventy-two, to be exact. Bridget counted," I interjected. Then smiled.

"_Really?_ Bloody hell, that's a lot," he laughed, "but I wasn't joking. I really have fancied you for ages. And maybe I didn't exactly go about things right, but I wasn't lying. And it wasn't just because you kept saying 'no'. I would have fancied you even if you had said yes."

"So…you weren't just being a pompous twit?" I asked.

"Every thirteen-year-old is a pompous twit. So yeah, that was probably part of it. But I didn't want to mess things up with you. Sirius was all for me just going up and snogging you senseless, but I valued my limbs, so I didn't think that was a good idea," James's grin widened.

"Wise move. I probably would have cursed you," I shoved him playfully.

"Yeah, I know," he looked down to his hands, "But when you called me an 'arrogant git who had no brains and thought he was magic's gift to man and you would never go out with me' last year, I sort of realised that I _did_ need to grow up a bit. Mind you, I didn't think that I'd grow up so much that Dumbledore would make me _Head_ _Boy_- Sirius had a great laugh at that when my letter came last summer- but I wanted to show you that I _could_ be mature and not just go around hexing people."

I looked at him. He looked so adorable and so pitiful. All I wanted to do was hug him. But I didn't.

I wasn't brave enough yet.

(A shameful mockery-of-a-sham to all Gryffindors, I know)

I chuckled softly, "You know, I think Bridget and Emily were right."

"How?" James looked at me.

"They told me that I really did fancy you, just didn't know it because I was so busy hating you," I looked up at him, "And I wasn't lying, either, you know. Last night, I mean. I really do think I'm in love wi-"

Suddenly, I found myself in no position to be speaking.

Why? Because something was obstructing my lips, thus making talking impossible.

Something in the form of James's lips.

JAMES POTTER WAS KISSING ME.

!!!!!!!!

At first I was shocked. But, never fear, that certainly didn't last long. I kissed him back. I think he was shocked at that, but again, that didn't last long. He held my face in his hands, and I reached up and wrapped my arms around his neck, and then started running my hands through his (surprisingly soft) hair.

It was wonderful. Everything a first kiss should be. Fireworks, symphonies soaring, heart hammering. It was beautiful. I could have gone on snogging James forever.

But, of course, Lady Luck thought it was time to pay her friend Lily Evans a call.

"_Miss Evans! Mr Potter_!" screeched a voice.

Oh, dear.

"Professor McGonagall," James said lightly, "Can we help you?"

She was glaring at the two of us, "Really! I thought I could expect better behaviour from the Head Boy and Girl. Detention, both of you! And twenty points from Gryffindor!"

* * *

_So I do hope you liked that. Please review!_

_--NeverAPrefect_


	22. Chapter 21

_**Disclaimer: **Do you really think JKR would publish on fanfiction? No. Thus I am not her._

_Good gracious, hello! Long time no...er...write! Sorry about that. There has been so much going on in my life lately. One of (and most importantly) being that I am officially 18! Yes, now I too can go into a pub and drink something that is not coca-cola! No longer will my brothers make fun of me for the aforementioned whatsit! I am a very happy human being. So, I really would like to thank you lot for being so bloody patient with me about all this, and really would thank you all individually, but it has gotten to the point where if I do that, there is a small novel before the chapter. So I thank you one and all for the reviews, alerts, reminders to get my sorry arse writing, etc! You are lovely readers and I do hope you enjoy this!_

* * *

**Chapter Twenty-One: Bliss**

I had detention.

DETENTION.

I didn't mind.

Some things in life are worth it. Snogging James Potter is _definitely _one of them.

James held my hand as we went back to Gryffindor Tower after being lectured on the inappropriateness of our actions by Professor McGonagall. (Actually, I only think that's what the lecture was about. James was holding my hand then, too, and tracing patterns on the back of it. Really hard to pay attention when he's doing that. Also really hard to care.)

"You know," I said as we rounded a corner, "That's the first detention I've been given since third year."

James stopped and stared at me, "Really? Sirius and I have our own _drawer_ of detention slips we've had so many."

"I know. You two were responsible for my last detention, too, you know. You and Sirius put frog brains in my rucky and so I hexed you," I pointed out.

He laughed, "I remember that! I wanted to get your attention and thought that was as good way as any. I wanted to put crocodile eyes instead, but frog brains seemed delightfully squishier."

"You are such a git! That _ruined_ my History of Magic book!" I smacked his shoulder, but I laughed. I was finding it exceedingly hard to be angry with him. He was such a brilliant snog…

"Oh, Evans-"

"Lily. It's 'Lily'," I corrected.

He gave a very bright smile, "_Lily_. Being a git is all a part of my charm."

He had _no_ _idea_.

"Apparently so is modestly," I snorted.

We were outside the Fat Lady now. And I knew that if we started snogging in the common room, someone would see, everyone would know, and really, where's the fun in that?

I stepped closer to James and looked up. His eyebrows were nearly hidden by his fringe they were raised so high, and his hazel eyes were wide and excited behind his glasses.

"You know…I don't mind getting detention for this."

He laughed softly and laced his fingers through mine and pulled me closer. A hard thing. I hadn't known I could get much closer.

"That can be arranged, you know. I have connexions," his whispered as if he were imparting a huge secret.

He then pushed my fringe out of my face and gave me one very chaste little kiss.

Well, _that_ clearly wasn't going to do.

"I don't think so," I said as he started to pull away.

I pulled his face back down to mine and commenced snogging. For a good long while.

"_Hem hem._ Are you going to go in or do I have to wait all night?" interrupted the Fat Lady.

"Sorry," we chuckled.

"Flibbertygibbet," James said and we walked into the common room with me leading the way.

I heard James laugh from behind me. My thoughts immediately went to the possibility of my skirt being caught in my knickers or some such other horrifying prospect.

"Lily, your hair's a bloody mess," he laughed.

I turned and glared at him, "Yeah? Well yours is…"

"The same as always?"

"Shut up."

He laughed, "The benefits of having naturally messy hair," then he gave me a very sweet kiss, said 'G'night' and went upstairs to the boys' dormitories.

I walked up to my dormitory, smiling like a loon, but not caring one jot.

Snogging James Potter can do that to you.

………….

I woke up early the next morning, dressed in a semi-daze. I think Emily and Bridget were awake. I'm not entirely sure. Either way, fifteen minutes later, I was sitting across from them in the Great Hall.

"Lily, are you alright? You look sort of like a loon on loon tablets," Bridget commented, her brow furrowing.

More like a loon on James Potter tablets. La dee dah.

Emily snorted, "I think she'll be fine. She's probably just looking forward to _Felix Felicis _in Potions because she's mad like that."

Little did they know…

Just then, four blokes walked in, led by a particularly jovial looking James Potter. I grinned without thinking about it.

James flopped down next to me, his mates on his other side. He leaned in to give me a kiss on the cheek just as I turned to say 'good morning'.

Much to my un-dismany, his kiss intended for my cheek ended up on my lips. He was a little shocked, I think, but kissed me enthusiastically anyway. I could feel him smiling as I kissed him back. He wrapped his arm around my waist and pulled me in closer. I reached up and wrapped my arms around his neck. His tongue flicked across my teeth…really, he was _much _better than the eggs I was planning on having for breakfa-

"_What the bloody hell is going on_?" interrupted a voice.

We broke apart, and my eyes took a moment to adjust to being open.

Everyone- both my mates and his- were staring in askance. Black was apparently the one who had spoken.

"Oh, didn't I tell you lot? Lily and I are-"

"Snogging for all England? Yeah, mate. We can tell," Black grinned. Then he turned to Remus and Peter, "I told you two. Pay up."

I stared at him, "You were betting on us?"

Black smirked as Remus and Peter grudgingly handed over several galleons, "Of course, Evans. Quick way to get some gold," he turned to Emily and Bridget, "Come on, you two."

Both James and I turned to look at my mates in surprise.

Bridget glared at me, "You couldn't wait until we were out of school? You just cost me twenty galleons, Lily!"

Emily shrugged prettily and tucked a golden curl behind her ear, "I only lost one galleon. And that was because Sirius wouldn't let me bet the other way."

"But you two were the ones who- what with the mad plotting- and all the-"

"Shut up, Lily," Bridget said grumpily, "I was counting more on your stubbornness than James's charm and snogging abilities."

I looked at James, who grinned. I chuckled, "Well, they _are_ some pretty fantastic abilities."

"Hmm? I can demonstrate if you'd like," James winked at Bridget.

"No, really, I think we all saw enough of-"

Too late.

And we were snogging again.

"You know, I would like to keep my breakfast down. Not that this isn't amusing or anything," Black drawled.

James and I broke apart and laughed. He kept and arm around my waist, though.

Black to a rather huge bit of sausage and then pointed his fork at me, "Oi! Does this mean I should call you 'Lily' now? Since you're sort of my best mate's girlfriend?"

"Yeah, that'd be nice, Padfoot," James replied for me, "But no 'Lils' or 'Lilykins'. Only I get to use those."

"And only if he wants to lose an appendage or two." I muttered.

Black threw his head back and laughed.

"Miss Evans, Mr Potter, here are your detention assignments," Professor McGonagall handed James and I a piece of parchment as she walked by.

Now Black- Siruis (I suppose I should call him that, too now) laughed even harder, "You have dentention, too, Ev-Lily? Bloody hell, I didn't think Prongs would rub off on you that fast!"

I grinned, "Yeah, well, detentions happen when you get caught snogging in the West Tower."

* * *

_There you are! Now, the next chapter will be up much more promptly than this last one was. _

_Cheerio, loves!_

_--NeverAPrefect_


	23. Chapter 22

_**Disclaimer: **My heart is breaking in twain because alas, I am not JKR._

_Hello dears! it has been ages since I've posted, hasn't it. For that I am terribly sorry, but I have been rather busy. And also quite lazy. I couldn't get into this chapter for quite some time, so I simply didn't write. This is the last chapter, besides the Epilogue, where I will say my farewells. i would type out exactly who gets my love for reading/reviewing, but that would be a short novel. Because I have FANTASTIC readers who luuuuurrrrve me so much. And so without further ado, chapter 22. _

* * *

**Chapter Twenty-Two: Detention**

"-just give it to me, Padfoot!"

"What?! You're bloody joking! No!'

"No, I'm not. I really need it- besides, you don't have detention tonight! What do you need it for?"

"Er…admiring my beautiful reflection? OW!"

"Just give it to me."

"But, Prongs, we bought those for _our_ use."

"Yeah, and _I'll _be using them…I'll give you twelve chocolate frogs."

"…and a Fizzing Whizbee?"

"Fine."

"Alright. Here."

This was how I spent the half hour before my detention. Which I was so excitedly looking forward to.

Yeah, NO.

James and Sirius were arguing over what one would think were the crown jewels, but when James walked across the Common Room to me after winning his argument, what did he bring? Not Queen Elizabeth's coronet. Oh, no.

He brought me a bloody mirror.

I raised and eyebrow at him, "James, what am I supposed to do with this?"

He rolled his eyes and grinned, "Watch."

Then he looked into the mirror and said 'Sirius.' Then he pointed to the mirror I was holding. I sighed and looked at it. But instead of seeing my face, I saw James's, grinning up at me.

I looked up at the real James, who _was_ beaming at me.

"It's how Sirius and I communicate when we're in separate detentions. I don't know if they'll put us in separate detentions tonight, since you've rarely had detention- usually they put the inexperienced with a master- but I made Padfoot give it to me as a precaution," he ran his hand through his hair.

I stood up and gave him a kiss on the cheek, "Brilliant."

He smiled and took my hand, then turned to where a sulking Sirius was losing a game of Exploding Snap to Remus, "Farewell, mates. We're off to detention!"

Remus lifted a hand, my mates were no where in sight, and Sirius gave us a lovely glare.

Kind people, aren't they.

We walked to McGonagall's office, where she had told us to meet her regarding detention. James opened the door for me and we walked into her office.

"Why, good evening, Professor! Fancy seeing you here!"

"Sit down, Potter," McGonagall said tartly, "Unfortunately, Professor Dumbledore has called a staff meeting for this evening, and therefore, I am forced to place the two of you in the same detention. You will be joining Mr Filch in the Trophy Room to polish trophies…_without_ magic."

James opened his mouth to protest, but I stepped on his foot. He looked at me and I shot him a look that hopefully said 'I am muggle-born, you dolt. I know how to do this.' It must have worked, because he shut his mouth and muttered something along the lines of 'goodnight, Professor' and we walked out of McGonagall's office.

"Guess we won't be needing those mirrors after all," I observed.

"True. And ol' Filchy has never been very observant…I think we should be able to snog behind a trophy or two, don't you?" James grinned, his eyes bright with laughter.

"Really romantic, Potter. Remind me to take you out in public sometime," I said, my voice dripping with sarcasm.

"Oh, Evans. You know you like the idea."

Well, if I did, he was never going to know that. Actually, he probably would. But that was beside the point.

Detention went well, for detention. We developed a steady rhythm as we worked: scrub, snog, scrub, snog, snog. (The last snog was thrown in for good measure). James was right, Filch was hardly very observant, worrying as he did about Peeves the whole time. And talking to Mrs Norris. Honestly, if one person needs a bed in the St Mungo's Psychiatric Ward more than I do, that person would be Filch. Besides being completely crack-nobbed, he's just _creepy._

After what seemed like ages, Filch declared we were done and sent us on our way, "Best go quickly. Wouldn't want to get caught for being out of bed after hours."

Shudder. Besides, we were Head Boy and Girl. We were the people who would be getting us in trouble. So were we getting in trouble? Of course not. If that makes any sense.

"Well, for a detention, that went well," James said as we made our way back to Gryffindor Tower.

"Yeah, I suppose. Last time I had to sort potion ingredients, so this was better," I grinned at him, "I had company this time."

James gave a crooked smile, "Yes, I must say the kisses definitely helped my focus."

I giggled, and the next thing I knew, we were snogging. James had me pressed up against the wall, and my fingers were tangled in his shirt collar. I was completely lost in it, until I heard a giggle. A giggle that most certainly wasn't mine.

I pushed James back. He groaned, "What was that for?"

"Shhh! Do you hear that?" I put my finger to his lips.

"Hear what?" he said around my finger.

"_That_."

There it was again, a very soft, very female, and slightly familiar giggle. Coming from either an empty classroom or a broom cupboard.

James did hear it evidently, because he looked around. But then he covered his eyes and sighed.

"Yeah, I hear it," he said, "Not only that, but I know where it's coming from and mostly likely who's provoking it."

Oh good lord.

I followed James over to a tapestry, where he opened a narrow door just to the left of it.

What happened next will forever be burned to my retinas. No amount of any potion will be able to erase it.

"_Sirius?"_

_"EMILY?!_" I screeched.

Sure enough, in the broom cupboard were our two best mates.

Snogging for Great Britain.

Sirius pulled away from Emily and the two of them looked at us in a very casual manner, as if we were all frolicking around Hogsmeade together.

"Can we help you?" Sirius asked calmly.

"What the b-bloody hell are you doing?!" I demanded.

Emily rolled her eyes, "Isn't that obvious?"

I looked at James, but he was just staring. I sighed, "But, Em, I thought you didn't like him!"

Emily looked at Sirius, "I don't really. He's just a very good snog," then she looked back at me, "Honestly, Lily, we're not going out, we're not going to get married. It's just a bloody snog. Now, if you would please leave us alone."

With that, she closed the door and most likely commenced snogging.

I looked at James, who was rooted to the spot, staring at the closed door. Then he blinked. And then laughed.

"What is so funny?" I hissed at him.

"Emily and Sirius," he chuckled, "Don't worry, Lily, it's Sirius. He doesn't have girlfriends, just snogs. And it sounds like Emily knows that."

I was quiet the whole was back to the dormitories.

Bloody hell.

I _knew_ this year was going to be different.

* * *

_La! _

_Now go onto the epilogue, mon amis_

_--NeverAPrefect_


	24. Epilogue

_**Disclaimer: **For the last time for this story, I am declaring that I am not JKR :[_

_Well, hello again. This is indeed the end of this story. It's been a pleasure, and I really am going to miss my dear Lily and James. They have been such fun to write. Thanks to all for reading! I do hope you don't completely give up on me- I am going to keep writing! My next story is a Teddy Lupin/Victoire Weasley one. Do read that one, once I get it up. Well, here it is. The epilogue!_

* * *

**Epilogue: An Ending**

I was sitting next to James at the end-of-term feast. Sirius was on my other side, and Bridget, Emily, Remus, and Peter were across from us. Over the past few months, Sirius and I had actually become pretty good mates. He wasn't as much of a prat as I had thought. And James had been right- not a week after he and I walked in on Emily and Sirius, Emily started dating this Ravenclaw boy, and everything went back to normal. That is to say, she went back to yelling at Sirius to stop being a wanker, and he kept calling her a colourful variety of insults.

Professor Dumbledore stood up to address us; to address the seventh-years for the last time.

He gave a sad smile, "Well, another year under the bridge, and another group of seventh-years leaving us. Before we all enjoy our delicious feast, I'd like to say a few words.

"The world we live in is not the world of yesterday; many things, dark and terrible things, have started to permeate our blissful existence. These are hard times, where we will not know who to trust. Friendships will be tested, as will our faith in good. But we must not give up. We must fight for what we love. For love is our strongest weapon. It is my utmost hope that here at Hogwarts we have taught you that. I cannot be sure, but I can hope. We can teach you spells and potions, but we cannot always teach you love- you must discover that on your own," Here, I swear he looked straight at James and I, "Do not give up. Happiness can be found, if we only remember to turn on the light and see it."

With that, he sat down and the feast began. James and I sat in silence with our mates for a little while. What if Dumbledore's hopes were in vain? What if You-Know-Who takes everything we love away? What then? Suddenly, whatever ounce of Gryffindor bravery I had seemed to swell inside me and I silently promised myself that no one could ever to that- no one, even You-Know-Who could ever take away my love. I looked up at Sirius, who had a sort of determined fire in his eyes, and he gave me a hard smile. I turned to look at James, who gave me a more reassuring smile and squeezed my hand. And then I knew everything would be OK, because as corny as it sounds, James was there with me, and our friends with us.

As we finished eating, six pieces of paper silently landed on our plates. How they got there, I have no idea, because no one else but us- the Maruaders and my mates- seemed to see them. I opened mine up. Apparently they all said the same thing, because I heard Sirius mutter, "The Order of the Phoenix?"

Life could never be boring, could it?

* * *

_And thus, my work is complete. Stay in touch, read my next fic. I will miss you all. Happy summer hols! Or winter, to my dear Australian, New Zealand-ese readers. Oh, and that last bit Dumbledore sayd must be credited to GoF the film. _

_Luuuuurrrrve_

_--NeverAPrefect_


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